


Pokémon Retold: Hidden Grottos

by UndeadProwess



Series: Pokémon Retold [5]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Action/Adventure, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Im trying to keep up with tags tho, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sexual Content, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Violence, idk - Freeform, there's just a bit of everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndeadProwess/pseuds/UndeadProwess
Summary: Replacing Silver Interlude, I've decided to go with this instead. Hidden Grottos will include one-shots that span the entirety of the Pokemon Retold series. Naturally, since Black and Black 2 are the only ones complete right now and Ultra Sun is underway, you can expect for a while that these first ones will involve the Black/Black 2 crew and maybe some Ultra Sun ones, but eventually, they'll involve ones from all of them. Similar to Silver Interlude, all of these will have their own plot, warnings/notes, etc. In general, these one-shots are rated T, but if I ever write one that ventures into the M category, I'll change the story's rating appropriately. Each one-shot will have a small blurb of info at the beginning including the timeline (where it took place in the universe), the setting (what region/area it's in), Notes (sort of describes what content the one-shot has), Characters (what characters are involved), Prerequisite Reading (what Retold stories you'll need to have read to understand the one-shot). Tags will be updated as more one-shots are posted.
Relationships: Achroma | Colress/Mei | Rosa, N | Natural Harmonia Gropius/Touya | Hilbert
Series: Pokémon Retold [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679419
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	1. The Right Side of History

**Author's Note:**

> Replacing Silver Interlude, I've decided to go with this instead: Hidden Grottos. Hidden Grottos will include one-shots that span the entirety of the Pokemon Retold series. Naturally, since Black and Black 2 are the only ones complete right now and Ultra Sun is underway, you can expect for a while that these first ones will involve the Black/Black 2 crew and maybe some Ultra Sun ones, but eventually, they'll involve ones from all of them. Similar to Silver Interlude, all of these will have their own plot, warnings/notes, etc. In general, these one-shots are rated T, but if I ever write one that ventures into the M category, I'll change the story's rating appropriately. Each one-shot will have a small blurb of info at the beginning including the timeline (where it took place in the universe), the setting (what region/area it's in), Notes (sort of describes what content the one-shot has), Characters (what characters are involved), Prerequisite Reading (what Retold stories you'll need to have read to understand the one-shot).
> 
> These oneshots are designed to be read after their respective Pokemon Retold counterparts. If you haven't read them, these probably won't make sense... But you're of course still welcome to read anyway, lol.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Opelucid citizen that survived the Battle for Opelucid arrives at the Pokémon League, demanding to see N, or for them to explain to him why the former 'King' of Team Plasma is helping lead Unova. N learns of the event through Zeshi/his Zoroark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: 6 months after the end of Black 2.  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Fluff & mild angst, male/male romance (…sort of? It's very very fluffy and they aren't actually a thing yet. I am not sorry)  
> Characters: N, Hil, Nathan (Nate), Zeshi, Noodle  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

"You need to leave, sir. I'm sorry, but you can't see Consul N." Nathan felt like ripping all his hair out as he stood in the dusty plains in front of the Pokémon League, trying to calmly address the irate man ahead of him. It was about five in the evening, and although that wasn't late, it certainly felt too late to be dealing with this… Even so, with his annoyance at the disturbance, he knew he couldn't react but with so much vitriol. Uncomfortably, he recognized that this man's motivation was far from unreasonable, but even more than that, he was the new Champion of Unova. He supposed having his pokémon threateningly send a civilian away would definitely not look good, and he had never really seen the critical side of Hil or N. He wasn't too keen on figuring out what having them come down on him might feel like, considering the ferocity in which he had seen Hil fight Ghetsis, or N's fierceness during his speech addressing all Unova.

"And why the hell not?" the burly man with oily, slick hair hissed, fists shaking at his sides. A Fraxure at his side lowered its head and growled at Zeshi, a Zoroark now, directly next to Nathan. Still, the burly man ranted on. "Those _bastards_ destroyed my home! They took _everything_ from me! Now, you've got their old 'King' sitting up there! Was Iris off her _meds_ when she did this?!"

Wincing, Nathan drew in a sharp breath as he caught the implication in the way the man's eyes watered and his voice tremored. He had already had a hunch that was why the man was so upset, but that convinced him of it. There hadn't been that many human casualties in the Battle for Opelucid, all things considered, but the effects were still rippling throughout Unova even months and months later. The frozen city had dethawed not long after the Frigate's destruction (and with the help of some Fire-types, which were finally able to make headway against the previously indestructible ice), and as those that were able and willing moved back in and life started to go back to some semblance of normal there, some of those aftershocks were still coming to a head.

Yet, Nathan didn't appreciate the way this man was projecting his anger onto N. Everyone across the country just about knew N's story at this point, and while it was true, not everyone believed his innocence entirely and quite a few were angry about his position of power, many had a hard time arguing that he was a poor leader for it. N had already encouraged sweeping changes that made the lives of people and pokémon alike better; for example, suggesting a way to standardize travel so less Flying-types were kept and used solely for transportation only, resulting in the adoption of a 'Ride' system he had apparently seen in a different region. Nathan felt N didn't deserve such unkind words even if just for his character alone, and Nathan knew how unfulfilling, how unsatisfying, it was to just offload one's anger onto others and use them as verbal punching bags. It was less a coping mechanism and more of a method of personal maintenance, requiring repeated, cruel diatribes in order to keep oneself happy, comparable to brushing one's teeth… with an old, frayed toothbrush and expired toothpaste.

Nathan had learned it didn't look good on him, and it certainly didn't look good on this desperate, upset man ahead of him.

"Sir," Nathan sternly began again, stiffening his back and squaring his shoulders just slightly (though in his new, crisper attire, featuring a close-fitting black undershirt and likewise dark pants, with a simple, medium-blue windbreaker covering him, he could look quite intimidating if he stood tall enough), "you cannot speak to Consul N this way or threaten him. You're upset, and I get it, man, but… come with me, I'll pay for a Ride to get you home, and I'll try and talk to you some on the way there, see if that helps. Alright? I know you're just upset. I don't wanna get you in trouble. Let me help."

He was not thrilled about the prospect of riding anywhere with this sweaty, belligerent man, but Nathan needed to try to defuse the situation somehow. Zeshi huffed exasperatedly beside him and he wished he could have fallen suit. Then, in his mind, she all but laughed, _I never would have been able to imagine you trying to calm down someone like some manager at a McDonald's dealing with a soccer mom. I thought you'd have just punched him by now._ A smirk tried to pull at his lips and Nathan fought against it, wanting to cackle so badly at her remark, and wanting even more to ask her how she could have known about that stereotype as a pokémon… _Did good ole' Rood like McD's?_ he thought to himself gleefully. Steadying his expression again, he reluctantly added in the back of his mind, _…Don't tempt me. This guy's not far from pissing me off._

As if he could have read their minds, the man jabbed a finger at Nathan's chest (earning him yet another warning growl from Zeshi), and snapped, "I am not just some upset minivan mom you can send away with a coupon and a patronizing voice!"

"Right… I know," Nathan mumbled under his breath as he briefly looked down at Zeshi so he could fervently blink away his multiplying annoyance and disbelief. _That would be too lucky, for me to be able to simply talk you out of here, wouldn't it, Mr. Man?_ Looking back up at this man who seemed intent on looking as much like a wounded, snarling animal as possible, Nathan stuffed his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips. _Maybe I can show him why projection's not great…_ Grimly, and in a jarringly calm voice in comparison to the man's, he asked, "Sir, what do you want to happen if you were to speak to Consul N?"

"I… well… ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing up there, for one thing!" the man floundered for a response, flushing a little darker red in the face. Panting for breath, he huffed, "Ask him who he thinks he is or what makes him think he deserves that title, or—"

"And you don't think he's already considered those questions?" Nathan cut him off, still quietly, his arms crossing guardedly over his chest. At the man's Deerling-in-headlights stare, he licked his lips and nodded. "Look. I understand. People were hurt in Opelucid. Good people, good people with families, good people that had nothing to do with Team Plasma from Adam. Pokémon, too. Here's the thing: N didn't have anything to do with that attack. Not a soul except those aboard the Plasma Frigate knew it was going to happen. The 'captain,' of that ship, if you will, is the reason Consul N only has one eye and so much more." Raising his chin somewhat, Nathan shook his head slowly. "So, no matter what mean words you think you've got loaded for Consul N, I can assure you, he probably asks and says so much worse to himself on the daily. He was tricked into _helping an organization that turned into a terrorist group hellbent on destroying the country and everyone in it,"_ Nathan drew out the words in the final sentence for emphasis. "Do you really think he hasn't thought about this, agonized over it, even? That he thinks he's there because he deserves it? Consul N is there because Iris believed he could help Unova grow and heal, because Consul Hil and I believe the same."

"I…" the man stammered and trailed off, frustratedly fighting to find something else to say.

Nathan spoke before he got the chance. "More than that, does this make you feel better? To have trudged all the way here to the League, pissed off and tired, just to yell at someone else and make them feel bad? Does that make you feel good, to know you have power over another with your words and that you can hurt them? Would the people you lost in Opelucid be proud of this?"

Nathan knew he was being a little harsh, but that was the point. This lesson was too important to waste on subtlety, and he wasn't good at that, anyway. There was a reason he was considered the commander-in-chief, a battler, and typically did not engage with visitors unless they were challenging him. The only reason he was handling this one was that the man had, at first, ventured into the Pokémon League's Pokémon Center, shouting vague threats regarding Consul N to Nurse Joy. Naturally, threats against a Consul had required Nathan to handle the situation, and although he had been ready to have the man arrested at first out of caution and because such threats were technically highly illegal… as he had walked the man out of the Center to talk with him more, it had been painfully clear that the man had no intentions of actually harming Consul N or the Pokémon League, and Nathan had cursed his internal softness as he had balked at the idea of arresting such a suffering soul.

After a short pause, Nathan sighed, sternly repeating himself, "So, again, I ask you. Can I pay for a Ride to get you back to Opelucid, and we can chat on the way? If you leave here still shouting threats about Consul N, I will have to arrest you. I'm already going to have to report this, and you'll probably not be allowed near the Pokémon League without an escort in the future, but it doesn't have to be any worse than that, man. I _want_ to help you. Let me help you. We're all just… here to help." _Please say yes. Please say yes. For the love of Arceus, just say yes and don't be a moron. I'm here, spelling it out for you, why being so miserable will help nobody._

At last, tears streamed down the man's face and he dropped his head to his hands. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "Y-yes… that sounds fine…"

Relieved, Nathan awkwardly shifted and nodded. "C'mon. Let's go."

* * *

It had been the dead of night when Hil woke to an intense pressure on his right shoulder. Grimacing as he slowly came to, he rolled his shoulder to try to buck the cause, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the bedroom, he realized Noodle was curled up on top of him. Groaning in frustration, Hil uncomfortably wrestled his left arm from beneath himself and pushed weakly at the Serperior. "Noodle, get _off,"_ he grunted, "you're crushin' me, dude…"

With a careful look at him with those burgundy eyes, Noodle slowly slithered off Hil's shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing ache that nested in his shoulder, Hil yawned and sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he saw Noodle jerk his head to gesture to the other twin bed on the other side of the room—N's bed. The azure covers were tossed to the floor in a heap and he was nowhere to be seen in the room. Alarmed, Hil jumped to his feet and slipped on a pair of sandals haphazardly laying near his bedside table, snatching his Xtransceiver up as well. The shared house had been carved into part of the Pokémon League and acted as their joint home, and although N had expressed some anxiety at the idea of living there, he had seemed to adjust after a couple months.

Still, it was worrying to find his bed empty, as Hil had never quite woken up to find N gone before. The bathroom connected to the room was empty, too, so he knew it wasn't like he had just gotten up to use that. The door was ajar and the inside of the room dark. Heading out the front door to try to find N, Hil dialed his number on the Xtransceiver, Noodle hot on his heels the entire time. He jerked his head up when he heard an Xtransceiver ringing ahead, beyond the line of guards that stood steadfast just outside of their home (which was nestled before the champion's quarters, in a newly-constructed building just next to the long, golden stairwell that would lead anyone who beat the Elite Four to the Champion of Unova). The guards gave Hil a curious look, then their attention was snapped back to N, seated against the golden stairs ahead.

Hil thought to ask the guards why they hadn't said or done anything, but he decided against it in favor of simply jogging over to N. He still wore a bandage wrapped around his head, even still regularly changing the fabric, even though doctors had told him he had healed fine and could remove the covering. In his grogginess, Hil temporarily forgot he was approaching from N's blind side. So, when his thumping footsteps got closer to him, N scrambled to his feet and jerked his head sharply left to try to give his right eye a clear view of who was approaching him. Immediately apologetic, Hil paused and raised his hands in a show of harmlessness. "S-sorry," he meekly mumbled.

Still clearly breathing heavily, N swallowed hard and said nothing, just sitting back down. Hil moved so that he was to the right of N and cautiously took a seat beside him, straining his eyes to read N's body language in the darkness. Checking his Xtransceiver (and ending the call to N he had started), he realized it was two in the morning. Frowning, he tucked the device back into his pocket, and fidgeted his hands as he furtively glanced to N. "Hey… is something wrong…?" Hil asked, already feeling stupid, because it was quite obvious something was wrong based on the tension in N's form, or even the fact he was there and not in bed at all. Bluntness, however, got one nowhere with N… and Hil didn't like the idea of using bluntness on N, anyway.

"I couldn't sleep," N whispered as he looked up at the starry sky overhead. Noodle slithered up to rest his head in N's lap, and he didn't react other than to move a hand to slowly stroke the pokémon's forehead. "Zoroark told me something earlier… that Zeshi told her…"

"Yeah?" Hil pressed softly.

"A man arrived at the Pokémon League earlier today threatening me…" N mumbled, looking down at his feet. "He had lost his entire family in the aftermath of the Plasma Frigate's attack on Opelucid City… and he, like many others, wonders how on Earth I could be here, in a leading position, after acting as… _'King'…_ of Team Plasma in the past…"

Feeling a surge of anger that made his fingertips feel like they were on fire—oh, Hil knew what N was talking about and had been _furious_ when Nathan had come back and told him about that—he nodded slowly. _Just a good thing Nathan was here to take care of it,_ Hil thought bitterly to himself, _because I don't know if I'd have so easily been able to keep my cool…_ He did feel a little guilty about feeling that way, as Hil understood the man had lost so much of his family, but Hil still found it difficult to forgive it entirely. He had lost his father, Amber might as well have been gone given how he refused to speak to her, and yet, he didn't go around threatening others. Almost rolling his eyes, he thought, _If I handled Dad's death the same way, I'd have threatened so many people by now. Amber, Alder, the entire Elite Four…_ Shaking away the thoughts, Hil tersely muttered, "Yeah… Nathan told me about that…"

"I'll never stop being the King of Team Plasma." N had said it with such a note of finality as he ran his hands down Noodle's back, leaning an elbow against a knee of his as he raised it. "They're right… I was the King of Team Plasma. I… I mean well, but…" He shook his head, and with a tone full of contempt that surprised Hil, he spat, "Some of the _worst_ things are done with the _best_ of intentions. Even before finding out I was actually related to Ghetsis, I always noticed how I looked like him, and there was a time…" N's voice wavered dangerously, "There was a time I even _wanted_ to be like him! Now, I match him, like some kind of twisted reflection in a pond, and I find out we're related by blood…" N slowly trailed into a choking voice full of emotion, one that indicated the tears he wanted to shed, "How _differently_ can the solution to a formula _be_ when so many of the _same_ variables are plugged in?"

"N… N, no," Hil crooned in a cracking voice, scooting a little closer to him. Adamantly shaking his head, "No. You are not Ghetsis. You will _never_ be Ghetsis."

Hil's heart broke at N's pained response. "How can you _know?"_ N asked desperately, turning his head away from Hil pointedly. _"How?_ I don't want to be a… a… _monster…_ but I doubt he woke up one day and decided he wanted to be one, either… I was always so _lost_ in what I hoped the world would be before that I couldn't see reality, what if I _still_ can't see reality? What if—"

Hil cut his passionate, fearful rant off by wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. Although N's back went stiff as a board at first, he soon relaxed as Hil spoke, conviction steeling his words as he repeated, "N. You are _not_ Ghetsis. You will _never_ be Ghetsis. You're _not_ a monster. You _aren't_ lost." Rubbing N's shoulder reassuringly, Hil swallowed hard against a stormy feeling taking refuge in his chest. As much as this was making him tremble with sympathy for N, as much as he just wanted to hug N and tell him it was okay until he no longer was so fearful, a much more fierce, almost violent sensation had rippled down his spine.

The burning, protective desire didn't fade, but Hil found it wasn't a discomforting sensation to have as he tried to soothe N, to talk him down. Shaking his head, Hil insisted, "You're not lost, N. You know what reality is… There's Noodle, there," Hil softly murmured, lightly grasping N's right hand with his free one and moving it so his palm lay flat against Noodle's head. The Serperior trilled happily, and then Hil drew N's hand away again, clutching it tightly in his own. "I'm right here, and…" Hil trailed off as he pressed it to N's chest, over his own heart. N nervously looked down, then at Hil, with so much fearful tension. Motivated to keep going by N's apprehension, he kept talking. "You are right here. Where you are meant to be. You love pokémon. You're working to help people and pokémon live better lives in Unova despite Ghetsis. _Despite_ him, N, not for him, not in his image, _despite_ him," Hil explained gently.

Shuddering with anxiety, N suddenly moved both of his hands so that he was grabbing at Hil in any way he could, needily wrapping his right arm around Hil's shoulders and clasping his left to Hil's left. A streak of tears escaped him, and he just tiredly leaned his head against Hil's shoulder. "He owned so much of me for so long," N whimpered, "and I thought… thought that little room in his castle was normal… That all humans lived like that… I wasn't blind to how much I hated it, to how badly I missed outside… The floor was painted like a day's sky… Hil, he had them _paint the floors so that it looked like the sky…_ There was a time, when I was far younger, where I wondered to myself if I just remembered the world outside wrong, and the sky was actually the _ground!"_ N almost wailed, shaking Hil slightly in a frustrated moment. "I… I thought that was chalked up to human cruelty, too… At least until I started to travel, and I saw more…" N dug his fingers in hard enough to hurt, but Hil found that he… didn't mind, so much, and then his heart bled as N sobbed, "He named that castle _after me._ He named my own prison after me, as if I had any control over it. Even when I was finally able to free roam it in the last six months or so, it was never mine…"

"Nobody owns you here, N," Hil whispered with conviction, instinctively pressing his chin gingerly to the top of N's head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized it as a loving gesture, one that he had only ever used with Church before, but he also distantly recognized this was far different from any time he had ever spent with Church; in fact, the idea of calling it romantic almost felt insulting, as if this moment were on a plane above that, more meaningful. In that moment, he felt that fierceness in his chest flare up and he almost felt as if he had been placed on that very Earth for this. Unlike so many days in denial in Church's home, never once did he think about wanting to flee, finding himself only determined to stay where he was more than ever. "Nobody owns you. Nobody _ever_ owned you. People don't own other people…" _And I'll do whatever I can to help you see that. No matter what… I'm just… so sorry that you need anyone to remind you of this stuff…_

As if in agreement, Noodle nudged N's leg.

"I don't want to go back in that room," N whimpered, weakly pointing with his left hand back at their home, which looked uncharacteristically small from where they were seated on the stairs. "I… I know, like you said, I'm not… _owned…"_ N's voice faltered as he said that, as if it were physically painful to utter that word. "I just… _can't_ be in that room anymore tonight…"

"Then we won't," Hil said simply, rubbing N's arm again comfortingly. "Don't have to go in there if you don't want, N."

There was a long stretch of silence where they just remained like that, and Hil's emotions kept spiraling between that painfully fierce desire to protect, heart-aching sympathy for learning even more about what N had endured at Ghetsis' hand, and a softer, tingling sensation that made him feel so resolute in a way he never had before. When N yawned and still hadn't said anything, Hil gingerly asked, "Is there somewhere you would rather be?" _I can leave Nathan a message and alert the rest of the League. As long as you keep your contact on you, it's fine for you to leave, N…_

"I… can _leave?"_ N asked in a ghostly whisper, slowly raising his head from Hil's shoulder. Moving so that he could, Hil felt another pang of hurt at the genuine shock in N's tone, at the horrible disconnect occurring in the other's mind. Despite Hil spelling out for him how he wasn't owned, it had apparently been so ingrained in him to believe he was that he hadn't realized he was 'allowed' to leave… That there was nobody holding him prisoner in the Pokémon League. "I mean… I can just _go,_ like that?"

 _I suppose training out the thought that there's always someone above him is going to be hard,_ Hil thought sadly to himself. _I had… no idea he thought that he was stuck here… We've been here for months… Oh, N…_ Although the plan had always been to eventually travel to other regions to learn more of them, Hil and N hadn't had such a chance yet; instead, they had remained in Unova the last six months to try to find their footing in their new, experimental roles. Yet, if part of that included traveling some to put N's mind at ease… "Yeah, of course," Hil answered, trying to sound a little more upbeat as he grinned kindly at the other. "Like I said. Nobody owns you, or me, even. You could go anywhere you wanted. What are they gonna do? Not like they have anything to worry about as long as you keep your Xtransceiver on you and the Dark Stone." Winking, Hil added in a snicker, "Who needs bodyguards when you have the god of lightning and ideals at your side?"

A hopeful, uncertain smile graced N's lips and he sheepishly looked down. "Do… you think we could leave, then…? Go somewhere?" He paused. "I… don't want to go alone, though…"

 _We._ Hil felt that protective anger dissipate in his chest and take wing into something lighter, something that fluttered and sent a warm sensation from head to toe. "I'd love to go somewhere with you, N. Where to?"

"I… don't know," N admitted quietly. "S-sorry…"

"I don't mind a little wandering," Hil encouragingly pushed, not wanting N to feel guilty for that. He knew how awful it felt to feel one was somewhere they didn't belong…

"Okay…" N whispered. "Then… ah, let's get some things and… go, then?"

"Sounds great to me."


	2. The Harlequin and the Joker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosa and Colress have a close run-in with Galar's law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~2 years, 9 months after Black 2's epilogue (placing it just a few months before Ultra Sun's events)  
> Setting: Galar  
> Notes: Strong language, violence, moderate blood, minor character death  
> Characters: Rosa, Colress, Rosa's Genesect, Shadow Triad  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

Even with Dr. Colress' watchful eye by way of his machinery and Rosa's crafty expertise she honed over the course of a couple years with her metallic suit and Genesect's assistance, Galar's police turned out to be a force to be reckoned with. Far superior to other regions, as Dr. Colress had complained, they soon started tracking down their temporary camps easily. Although most nights they were able to escape long before police actually arrived at their makeshift homes, they were not so lucky one evening. Dr. Colress and Rosa had been caught entirely off-guard as Dr. Colress' superior perimeter detection technology, which essentially used elaborate echolocation to warn of approaching danger, went ignored as they both slept clear through the alarms. Rosa had allowed them both some slack the evening before, claiming that since they had just relocated, they had at least a day or two before they had to worry about being tracked down again.

She had been very, very wrong.

Awakened to the sound of Arcanine barking and loud voices, Rosa leapt to her feet like a startled Purrloin and shook Dr. Colress awake violently. Not bothering to see if he actually got up or not, she dove for her bag next to the pad of blankets they had formed into a bed, hastily fitting her suit on as quickly as she could as she heard the voices outside start to make sense. They were demanding both of them come outside, or they would send some Arcanine into the tent to drive them out. Curling her lip at the entrance, hunched over, Rosa just barely held her tongue from snarling, "Go ahead, then!" She was hardly afraid of some pathetic Arcanine. In fact, most pokémon paled laughably in comparison to her suit or her Genesect. Still, once comfortably in her suit, she moved back to their sleeping pad and helped a groggy, confused Dr. Colress to his feet. "Call the Shadow Triad!" she hissed. It wasn't worth drawing further attention to themselves by injuring the police and their pokémon if conflict could be avoided altogether.

"Right," he mumbled, rubbing his face. Disjointedly throwing out his right arm, he tiredly slurred, "Shadow Triad, come to me…"

A couple of Arcanine entered the tent then. Slowly, they lowered their heads and held their jaws just slightly ajar, flames visible in their mouths and ready to fly at a moment's notice. Rosa caught sight of them and froze momentarily… then, pitched Genesect's Ultra Ball. Avoiding conflict was preferable, but she wasn't about to take her chances with these pokémon, and she sure hoped Genesect would intimidate them into submission. The beastly Bug-type unfolded from the red beam and its height ripped the tent open at the top. The wind pulled the fabric away from them all, the tatters blowing in the occasional gusts of the breeze, leaving her and Dr. Colress exposed to the elements and visible to the gathered police. The heavily armored men and women sat astride Mudsdale with thick riot shields in hand, some exchanging words through walkie-talkies as well. Rosa almost smirked. They certainly had reason to fear her. This wasn't the first time they had seen her Genesect.

As soon as the two Shadow Triad brothers (Dr. Colress had shrugged and insisted that, even though one of them had died, Shadow Duo just didn't quite have the nicest ring to it) appeared, the two Arcanine shot off deadly Fire Blasts at them each. Instinctively to save themselves, the two vanished from sight again, and before Rosa even managed to get a word out to tell her Genesect to do something, the Arcanine both attacked. One latched onto her arm and started to drag her away from the Genesect, while the other leapt at Dr. Colress. A third Arcanine then rushed in and zoomed at Genesect, clipping its teeth on the pokémon's small, vulnerable arms, causing it to aggravatedly turn its attention there instead of on helping its trainer or its creator.

"Stop resisting! Recall the pokémon, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your head, both of you! The Arcanine will not harm you if you cooperate!" she heard someone with a loudspeaker call.

Narrowing her eyes contemptuously at them, Rosa could only smirk beneath her mask at the disconcerted expressions that followed, assuming they had seen the way her glowing, digital eyes had cut at them in cruel delight. Although the Arcanine's weight on her arm was uncomfortable, its teeth couldn't hope to penetrate her suit; and so, she easily just raised her right foot and landed a kick squarely in the Fire-type's throat. With a pained yelp, its teeth dragged along the suit, throwing sparks, as it was thrown away from her and landed in a heap, failing to rise again. Just as she did that, her Genesect lowered its head and the weapon crowning its head glowed an eerie violet. Although the Arcanine started to fall back and she heard one of the handlers calling for it to return, Genesect's attack fired off before it could listen, and the Arcanine went awash in blindingly white light as it was struck with a point-blank Hyper Beam, one designed for killing instead of merely fainting. The Arcanine collapsed following the strike, its fur blackened and smoking, eerily silent.

Turning her head to Dr. Colress with the intent of telling him to call the Shadow Triad back, Rosa felt as if she were watching in slow-motion as she saw the Arcanine attacking him knock him to the ground, and then clamp its powerful jaws around the blue sensor encircling his head. All in one terrible second, she heard him cry out in pain, saw electricity rush down the sensor, and that pale green forcefield appeared around Dr. Colress. The Arcanine howled and jumped away, blood spattering Dr. Colress as it pawed at its muzzle. Dimly, Rosa realized the protective forcefield had deeply lacerated the pokémon's face as it activated, but those details were lost to her as she rushed to Dr. Colress' side. Upon her approach, the forcefield flickered and then faded entirely.

The sensor, she had come to learn, was quite literally embedded to Dr. Colress' skull and brain and allowed him a variety of abilities. From quick, complicated mental math to borderline encyclopedic recollection of information to idle collection of environmental data, that sensor was vital to Dr. Colress himself as well as his research. Yet, she had seen the Arcanine tug on it _before_ the forcefield had taken effect… she had heard the sharp, inhuman howl of pain that she had never, ever heard from Dr. Colress before… Fearful of what something tugging on such a sensitive device could mean, she inspected where it fit into his hairline, and saw the skin had pulled away and he was bleeding profusely. He looked to her dazedly and moved his mouth as if to say something, but whatever it was died in his throat, and then his golden eyes rolled into the back of his head. He suddenly went very limp in her hold.

"Fall back, fall back!" she heard that loudspeaker cry again. Feeling an indescribable numbness from head-to-toe at feeling Dr. Colress' weight slump against her arms like that, Rosa slowly turned her head to watch as the police team on the Mudsdale reared away from her Genesect, which towered over them menacingly. She felt as if her eyes glazed over as she heard them rapidly talking strategies between one another. They were hesitant to throw out anymore pokémon to face Genesect, she could tell, based on what had happened to the three Arcanine. Of the three they had sent out, only one had staggered back over to them, and its face was stained scarlet with where Dr. Colress' forcefield had struck it.

Slowly, Rosa unlooped her arms from Dr. Colress and stalked closer to her Genesect. Normally, she would have simply called the Shadow Triad herself at this point and have ordered them to bring them both to safety. However, a deep-seated hatred burned in her as she overlooked the group of police, their bleeding Arcanine, and she leaned her hand against Genesect's cool, iron body. Shivering in a rage she couldn't have begun to understand, she shrieked against the brisk air of the night, "Genesect, Flash Cannon them _all!"_

Turning away as the pokémon obeyed, lowering its head, and aiming that massive gun at them, Rosa sank back to her knees next to Dr. Colress. She curled her arms below his shoulders and struggled to pull him close—he was a lot heavier than he looked—and almost hugged him as she watched Genesect raze the group of police. Her eyes were still unfocused as she saw the strident blast of light scorch the ground ahead, sending a tremor through the earth. Everything went comfortably quiet after that and her Genesect lumbered back over to her. There was nothing left of the hunting party that had been sent for them. They had drawn a very bad hand indeed.

Yet, Dr. Colress was still out cold, and Rosa could not bring herself to think of what potentially was wrong with him. He was the scientist, the brilliance; she was the enrapturing Queen of Diamonds, the skill and protection. Yet, a simple Arcanine had brought Dr. Colress down and she had _allowed_ it to happen. Clutching him even tighter, she shivered violently as she saw his blood leak down her arm, beading off her suit, a lump of painful, turbulent emotion rising in her throat. She was ignorant to the cold in the air, to the fact a much stronger hunting party would be sent after them following the disappearance of so many police officers like that, and even ignorant to the idea of staving off his blood loss and trying to help him in any way she could. She was just too lost in her haunted guilt and an all-encompassing sadness that swept up on her like a tidal wave. Even if she did stop the bleeding, what would that do? The internal damage was done. Her mind looped on that thought like a broken record, unable to think beyond it without shattering the rest of her composure. A more primal part of her mind was begging her, screaming at her, to ask what she would do if Dr. Colress did not recover, but she wouldn't acknowledge it. She couldn't acknowledge it. That was a place she was unwilling to go, unwilling to consider, because she needed her King… King of Diamonds. She had tauntingly compared him to Nate before, calling Dr. Colress her King of Hearts instead, but that just wasn't true. She liked Dr. Colress and she liked being at his side. If she was the Queen of Diamonds, then he was, in fact, her King of Diamonds.

The two Shadow Triad brothers appeared on either side of her, but Rosa ignored them, even as one whispered, "We should move."

Another ten minutes or so passed before the other prompted her as well. "Miss Rosa."

Seizing at the use of that name, of which only Dr. Colress and now the remnants of the Shadow Triad called her, Rosa gritted her teeth. "I'm not going _anywhere,"_ she growled at them. Stubbornly, she had decided she would not move until she had figured out what she was going to do. If that meant staying there all night, then it meant staying there all night.

"Well… we can't stay _here._ It's dreadfully cold, Miss Rosa…"

Rosa almost dropped him in her shock as she heard Dr. Colress' slur those exhausted words at her. He weakly pushed against her hold and she let go, watching in a mix of terror and hopefulness as he sat up in front of her. With a trembling left hand, he wiped away some of the red fluid that had cascaded over his face, and cracked that winning smile at her, the same one when she had first met him. It looked so demented and eccentric with half his face drenched in his own blood. "Come, now, you don't think I hadn't thought of something to make up for how exposed this thing is?" he asked as he pointed a finger to the flashing sensor. "Miss Rosa," he dramatically tilted his head back and pressed the back of his left hand to his forehead, "I _do_ hope you know me better than that!"

"Then, why'd you scare me like that?!" she huffed, embarrassedly flushing crimson beneath her visor. "And why are you bleeding like that? You passed out when it got tugged!"

As if he didn't know what she was talking about, he drew a finger across his face, blinking surprisedly at the scarlet fluid on his fingers. "Mm, the human head has a habit of bleeding profusely at the smallest of injuries. What poor design…" he trailed off disappointedly. "Nevertheless, I've come to work with this shoddy design! I passed out because it getting tugged like that is definitely a serious problem. The forcefield, however, activates to get rid of whatever is causing the disturbance and then, ah… Hmm, how to explain… Some chemicals are released that fix whatever little damage was done, to grossly oversimplify. It renders me unconscious so I don't potentially disturb the process."

As Rosa reeled from the information, he shakily stood up and stretched, then overlooked the still-smoldering hillside in front of their crashed campsite. His beaming grin faded into something more akin to a mischievous smirk, and he raised a brow at her. "My, Miss Rosa. I was out for a mere few minutes and you made such a mess without me!" He craned his head slightly to inspect the marks in the ground. "There is nothing left. Mm, I see the Genesect project is still functioning well! Good, I was worried about a few potential kinks still in the program…"

Crossing her arms and glaring at him, she defensively huffed, "You scared the shit out of me!" _Don't you EVER pull anything like that again!_ she possessively thought, her lips twitching with all the other furious words she wanted to let fly at him, even though she was thrilled that he was alive and well.

"I did?" he asked in a faux innocence, fluttering his eyelids at her. "Now, what sense does _that_ make, Miss Rosa?" he teased.

He had leaned into and fully accepted the idea that he would never understand whatever relationship they had. In a way, so had Rosa. Nearly losing him had drummed up such a deep pain in her chest, one that threatened to rise up and swallow her entire world into darkness, and although she didn't want to show just how grateful she was to still have him there, she couldn't fight away the grin that had spread beneath her visor, nor the way her digital eyes were upturned in glee on it. She practically skipped over to him and seized one of his hands in hers. Her voice laced with a fake, apologetic tone, she snickered, "My bad. I suppose that means we'd better skip on out of Galar for a while." Tossing a look over her shoulder at her Genesect, she dramatically added, "Since they'll want to know what happened to their _teammates_ and all that…"

Playing along with her, Dr. Colress rolled his eyes, a playful smile still pulling at his lips. "Yet more human emotion in the way of our studies, mm, isn't that right, Miss Rosa?"

"You should have seen them," Rosa teasingly taunted. "'Fall back! Fall back!'" she mocked them, giggling after. Reaching out a finger before he could respond, she traced it upon his lower jaw and stopped it just at the end of his chin, moving his face slightly so that his eyes focused directly on hers. "They didn't know just who they were messing with, though," Rosa dangerously whispered, loving the rush of power that came with realizing she had all but vaporized an entire squad of police… and she still had her delightful Dr. Colress to show for it! Those hopeless enforcers had accomplished nothing, and they had learned why they shouldn't have ever bothered in the first place. They had earned their retribution for daring to harm him. Oh, she knew a saner person would have found her justification horrifying, but as far as she was concerned, everyone else was wrong. She and Dr. Colress were inhuman on an entirely different plane, and nobody would ever take her King of Diamonds.

They were welcome to try.

But they would fail.

And she would lavish every second of their delicious failure.

"Mm, no, they did not," Dr. Colress responded breathlessly, relaxing in the slight hold she had on his chin. "Even so," he yawned after a long, lovely moment like that, "I should clean up and get this wound taken care of. Then, we shall go elsewhere, Miss Rosa. Where to next?"

"Galar is always so dreary and cold," Rosa complained huffily as he started to walk away, crossing her arms. "Maybe… somewhere sunny? With beaches? What's that little region nobody knows much about, or even takes all that seriously?"

"Alola?" Dr. Colress distractedly asked as he started to dig through a bag.

"Yes, that's the one!" Rosa exclaimed as she excitedly bounced a little. "What's a beach vacation sound to you?"

"They do have a most interesting phenomenon there that I have not been able to glean much information about from books or even the limited Internet access in Galar," he mused interestedly. "Z-Powers, I believe they call them, comparable to the Mega Evolution I studied in Kalos, or so I have heard. Since I already have data on Mega Evolution, perhaps it would be a great opportunity to see which ability is better at drawing out power from pokémon! Imagine if I could fabricate a Z-Power or Mega Evolution for the Genesect project!"

Laughing, Rosa said, "So, that's a yes, then?"

"Indeed, Miss Rosa!" he called out as he whirled away from the bag, triumphantly holding a tube of something over his head. "To Alola!"

"After you fix your busted head," she reminded him pointedly, almost like a mother chiding a child.

"If you insist," he sarcastically complained.

Rosa recalled her Genesect, and sat there with him, assisting him in cleaning his face and then applying the surgical glue that would reaffirm the hold between his skin and the device spiraling from his head. Leaning her head on his shoulder in the end, she found the idea of spending some time in Alola with him to be delightful. She was more than ready by the time he was done, and just like that, they grabbed what they deemed critical from the campsite in a few hastily thrown together bags, and then…

To Alola they went.


	3. Vaniville's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An 8-year-old Calem and 7-year-old Serena find a way outside of Vaniville's brick walls for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~4 years before the beginning of Black (though this isn't really important to that story at all…)  
> Setting: Kalos  
> Notes: Mild violence  
> Characters: Calem, Serena  
> Prerequisite Reading: N/A :) (is just something I wrote for the characters that will appear in Pokémon Retold: Y)

Okay, so, he _knew_ he shouldn't have ventured beyond Vaniville's borders. He wasn't entirely sure _why,_ but his parents had always sternly insisted he stay away from them. In fact, surrounding most of the town was a hulking brick wall! But Calem had found a patch that had fallen through. Tucked just outside of their townhouse, to the far right of the building, where shrubbery had grown unnoticed along its side, hid a crumbling hole in the wall, just big enough for an eight-year-old boy to fit through, no questions asked. Natural curiosity from never having seen outside of that towering perimeter completely negated any misgivings he might have had about what lay beyond, so he eagerly wriggled through the opening, wincing as some of the jagged brick cut his left leg. Rolling out onto the leafy forest floor, he puffed his cheeks in annoyance at the brick wall that had injured him. As if in retribution, a little more of the bricks over the hole crumbled away beneath his stare.

Apparently satisfied with that response, Calem quickly turned his attention to the new world he found himself lost in. Even though he was just beyond Vaniville's walls, the canopy overhead was already so thick, making it much darker and cooler than in the town. Bushes easily as tall as he was or more so overshadowed him and that wasn't to say anything of the _trees!_ Gnarled, ancient things that stretched on like towers far into the air. There were the sounds of chirping, and cawing, and chattering… It sounded so _alive,_ and smelled so different there, too!

Craning his neck curiously as he went, he started to pick his way a little deeper, given pause only when a bush to his right rustled unexpectedly. Even then, he only jerked his head to look at it, followed by dauntlessly creeping closer. He reached a hand to move away thick, ferny leaves, and for his bravery, he was rewarded the frozen stare of a Delcatty with a Pidgey in its jaws. Not that Calem recognized that; all he saw was that it had something brown and feathery in its hold, then a purple blur as it hissed at him, dropped its prey, and leapt over his head, vanishing further into the forestry. Confused, he went to inspect what it had left behind, but a branch crackling overhead made him forget about it almost immediately.

Yet, as he stared upward… He couldn't see anything that could have made such a noise. The branches were dark, but from what he could see, they were empty… Annoyed that he couldn't seem to piece it together, he stumbled away from the fern and squinted into the shadowy canopy. As he stepped a little further into a small clearing, free of the bushes and ferns, the branches and leaves rattled overhead, and a scarlet blur rocketed at him. He hardly had time to recognize that was happening before pressure struck his back and he heard a high-pitched squeal, as he and someone—or something, for all he knew in that moment—rolled out of the clearing and into a patch of prickly bushes. As they stopped, Calem heard the shriek of a Talonflame, followed by the sound of scuffing in the dirt. Gritting his teeth as he peeked out from the safety of the uncomfortable bushes, he saw that where he had been standing seconds earlier, a Talonflame now had its claws lodged in the ground. It flared its wings and picked at the ground with its beak to free itself.

"What are you doing?" he heard someone hiss at him. Startled, he jolted, only to yelp at the sharp leaves that dug into him as he spotted the honey-haired girl crouched to his right, huddled even deeper into the painful foliage. Her icy, blue-gray eyes were full of contempt as she spat, "Get _back!_ Before that Talonflame eats us!"

"Serena!" Calem beamed, momentarily forgetting all about the Talonflame or the bush. Blissfully unaware of her anger, or the severity of their situation, he blithely asked, "What're you doing out here? Did you find a spot in the wall, too?"

"I asked you first!" she puffed. "I saw _you_ go out the wall, and you know we're not—"

Another shriek from the Talonflame cut her off as it finally freed itself, disappearing into the depths of the canopy. Calem started like he was going to crawl back out of the bush after it, and Serena gripped him firmly on his ankle with both hands. Frustrated, he turned over and scowled at her. "What?" he whined. "I want to see the Talonflame up close!"

"It tried to eat you!" she exasperatedly scoffed. "You do know what _eating_ is, right?"

"'Course I do," he mutinously shot back at her. Of course, what she was trying to tell him still was lost on him. "I'm not _stupid,_ and I'm not food, so why would it try to eat me?" Attempting to cross his arms, he was gouged with another sharp leaf, and so, he irritably raised his shoulders. "Ugh, why do these leaves _hurt?!"_

Serena rolled her eyes. "Follow me, okay?" She finally let go of his ankle and turned around, grimacing at the leaves and thorns scratching at her clothes, but making no other noise.

Encouraged, Calem just uttered a rapid, "Okay," and crawled after her. He was noticeably much louder and clunkier than her, fighting the sticky leaves every inch of the way, and once he was free of the bush, much to Serena's horror, he jumped back to his full height to shake and brush himself off. She waved a hand at him dramatically, and he cocked his head at her. "What?"

"Get back down, Calem!" Her eyes were wide and fearful… What was she so afraid of?

His question seemed to be answered with the sound of more furious, flapping wings, and another ear-piercing shriek. Hot, flashing pain burst in his left shoulder, and he saw Serena leap to her feet and run as the Talonflame swooped uncomfortably close to her, circling back into the treetops when it missed. Mind blanking, Calem momentarily froze in fear, then dared to touch his searing shoulder with his opposite hand. He felt the fabric of his shirt and jacket was torn and wet, and when he withdrew the hand to look, red fluid coated the fingers. Blood. He swallowed hard; even he knew what that was… Even if he didn't quite understand what was going on, he didn't entirely need to, arbitrarily deciding chasing after where Serena had vanished farther into the forest was his best option.

He followed the glimpses of her golden hair until he saw her halt in another clearing, one with a single, ancient tree, devoid of any leaves at all, in its center. This time, rather than rushing out, he nervously surveyed the sky and found the canopy partially gave way over this clearing. Shafts of sunlight washed over the gray, silvery bark of the centered tree, making its wrought branches practically glitter in the daylight. Feeling a little more at ease that there was no canopy hindering his view overhead, Calem forgot all about his worries, even briefly forgetting the throbbing in his shoulder, as he skipped closer to Serena and fell into place beside her. From the angle she was gawking at it, the tree seemed almost X-shaped, with its upper branches curling in a V-shape toward the sky, its lower half forming an upside-down V into the earth with its twisting roots.

"It's so pretty!" Calem breathlessly exclaimed after a second or two.

"I've never seen a tree like that…" Serena commented, tilting her head.

Approaching it without another thought, Calem used his right hand to pluck at some of its rougher bark, teasing away a particularly loose plate. He thought he heard Serena snap something at him again, but he didn't understand what it was. When the patch of bark gave way, he found the wood beneath was blue… Bright blue. In fact, it glowed! "Serena!" he cried, practically jumping up and down. "Look at that! It's so _cool!"_

Shrill, piercing caws, followed by the sound of water splashing, made him whip around. Serena scrambled to join his side and they watched in a mix of fright and awe as Calem's father ordered his Greninja to attack the same Talonflame that had been harassing them earlier. Calem wasn't sure how Dad had gotten there, and even though he knew he would be in trouble for going outside Vaniville's walls, he was ecstatic that he had found them. Not only would he be able to drive away the scary Talonflame, but he could show Dad the blue tree, too!

Of course, even after driving off the Talonflame, Dad wasn't in the mood for Calem's story. Once the Talonflame fled, Calem had darted down to him, grabbing at his shirt. _"Daaad!_ You won't believe this tree—!"

"Calem," his father cut him off curtly, in that quiet, commanding tone and with the same tension to his lips that he knew always preceded a lecture (though he rarely understood what they were for), "what on Earth are you doing out here?" His father flicked his dark, navy eyes to Serena. "What about you? I thought _you_ would have known better…"

"I _do!"_ Serena hotly defended herself. With a fleeting, apologetic look to Calem that he missed, she supplied, "I was just following Calem out! I thought he might get hurt… S-so, yeah! I _had_ to go out!"

Looking Calem up and down, Dad sighed wearily, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, his shoulder's bleeding, so you're not wrong… but you shouldn't have 'had' to go out after him, Serena."

"Forget that! Look at this!" Calem whirled around to point at the tree, especially in the patch of missing bark where it glowed, but he cringed as Dad snarled his name loudly. Slowly rotating back to face him, Calem smiled nervously. Honestly, he didn't always know what would make his parents angry or not… He certainly couldn't draw connections between them. Sure, the Talonflame had hurt him, but it wasn't like it had meant to. He wasn't food! Maybe it had just been confused? Was that why nobody was allowed outside of Vaniville's walls? Then again, Mom and Dad could come and go as they pleased, anywhere… Ugh, it just didn't make sense! What was so dangerous about it? Still, he at _least_ knew better than to express his frustration right then. Instead, he just swallowed anxiously and asked a plaintive, "Heh… yeah?"

"We've told you again and again you've got no business being out here," Dad hissed, recalling his Greninja. Calem liked Dad's Greninja. He called it Grinny, and Grinny was so fun to play with. He almost lost himself in that tangent of thought, nearly missing the rest of what Dad had to say. "It is dangerous for you. You're lucky Serena was there for you, but she won't always be, and she should not _have_ to risk _herself_ for _you._ Do you understand me?"

Bluntly put, no, he didn't; he still had no idea what was so dangerous. The cut on his shoulder hurt, but if that was the worst he had to expect, then what was the big deal? _I can handle a little cut!_ he thought indignantly. Even so, he didn't think it wise to say any of that, and just wanted Dad to get over his anger so he could show him the tree. He felt like he would just explode if he didn't! Rocking his head up and down like a bobblehead, Calem agreed insincerely, "Yeah, yeah, I do! Sorry! Um, but _look—!"_

"I'm serious, Calem," Dad cut him off, marching closer to him and picking him up. Calem hated it when he was picked up. Huffily fighting against Dad's hold for a moment, he found it was no use, and soon tired out. Dad was just so much stronger than he was… The hold didn't hurt, no. He just didn't _want_ to be there! And the _tree!_ Ugh, why was getting them to cooperate so difficult? He just sulked as Dad explained further. "Don't ever do this again… You could've gotten a lot worse than just that cut on your shoulder. How did you even get out here?"

"There's a hole in the wall… I can show it to you when we get back!" Serena piped up as she skipped ahead of them.

"Ser- _e_ -na!" Calem whined. Great, she had just ruined the secret! There had to be so much more beyond Vaniville, like the tree, like the Talonflame, like the Delcatty, like the forest—there just seemed to be so much _more!_ So much more nobody else was going to tell him about or explain to him! He just wanted to know… "Why'd you go and do that?" he frustratedly asked, blind to the way his father rolled his eyes at him.

"Well, I'm not going to _lie!"_ Serena retorted. "Was bad, sneaking off in here, Calem!"

"You did it, too!" _How else would you have found me?!_

"For _you!"_

Feeling combative in his frustration, Calem sulkily muttered, "Did you?"

"Enough," Dad interrupted them harshly, shooting a glare between both of them. "I'm going to let out my Talonflame, and then I'm going to Fly us back into Vaniville. Serena, you're going to go home. Calem, you and I are going to have _another_ talk. Is that _clear_ to everyone?"

 _No. It's never clear,_ Calem thought bitterly. Instead, he just defeatedly mumbled, "Yeah…"

"You got it, sir," Serena answered dutifully, almost cheerfully.

"Good," Dad sighed tiredly.

Calem just stared over Dad's shoulder at the tree as he fished in his pockets for his Talonflame's Poké Ball, desperately hoping that, maybe one day, he'd be able to find it again and discover what else lay beneath its shimmering, silver bark… Surely, there had to be more…

There was always so, so much more, wasn't there…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an announcement, but I have honestly typed it out so many times, I'd rather just link directly to the announcement post on Tumblr. Even if you don't have Tumblr, you should still be able to view this post. 
> 
> Anyway, here: https://undeadtrashess.tumblr.com/post/626366900698480640/pokemon-retold-is-creating-stories-and-art
> 
> TL;DR: Real life is really, really bad and I may be getting saddled with a surprise 10,000+ dollar charge from my college which has apparently taken advantage of me during the coronavirus pandemic. I'm fighting to get the charges dropped but I can't guarantee it thanks to their rigged appeal system (college is George Mason University btw, all colleges suck and are designed to bleed you dry, but this one has been literal hell on Earth imo). That link talks about a , which I want to use as a sort of "tip jar" for fanfiction as well as fanart, with pledges starting at 5 dollars. Higher tiers offer commissions. There's also a link to a if you want to just tip or can't afford 5 dollars (I'm not making fun of anyone, I've been in a position where even 5 dollars was too much). I also do not expect everyone to rush to pay me or anything. I just am desperate and that is why I'm at this point. As soon as I get some pledges, or after August 24th, all my works will be posted to my 2 weeks prior to being posted to FFN, AO3, or Tumblr. So, while I might go inactive for 2 weeks once I start that, after that two weeks is up, you'll see me start to post regularly again.
> 
> I'm really sorry. I am just kind of at my wits end, but I am hoping that between this, me getting a job, and getting my health back on track, things might finally start looking up. And again, I understand everyone has it bad right now, I'm just... a little desperate at this point. I'll be posting a similar addendum to this to my next Ultra Sun chapter, since I know not that many people read these in comparison to that one.


	4. To the Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimsley always prided himself on reading people, sussing them out… but there was someone he failed. After all, sometimes, the coin never lands at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~3.5 months prior to Black (the flashback), shortly after the final chapter (not epilogue) of Black 2 (outside of the flashback)  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Content warnings: mental illness, implied alcohol abuse  
> Characters: Grimsley, Church, Vincent (Vince)  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

It had been such a normal day for him in Castelia. He had managed to skip out on the Pokémon League for the evening and he had plans, which included burning through the several thousands of dollars in his pocket, indulging himself until he likely had forgotten he had done that at all, and annoying a certain Bug-type friend of his as he did. Burgh worked so hard on his art and at his gym; getting him away from either was like pulling teeth, but whenever he managed to, he found Burgh to be an endless source of eccentric entertainment. What a duo they were; the rejected aristocrat-turned-Elite Four, and the esoteric Bug-type painter.

Yet, as Grimsley strolled down the streets of Castelia, his hair lacking the usual style and his clothes less flashy for the sake of privacy, he was given pause by the sight of a man propped with his back against a building's brick exterior. Of course, it wasn't odd to see people seated around Castelia in odd places. As the largest city in Unova, it more than had its fair share of problems, including beggars and the like, but this man didn't strike him as such. Not only did he have a Ferrothorn at his side, a rare pokémon for someone in such poor straits to have, but he wore nice clothes, a dressy shirt and matte black pants, that might have been crisp and clean if not for the puddle of filthy water the man was seated in. A gutter was draining next to him, adding to it, but the man seemed dazedly unaware, his head in his hands (though his face was obscured by a mop of messy, tan hair). He rocked slightly, occasionally supported by the vines of his Ferrothorn to keep from falling over completely.

At first, Grimsley thought to merely pass by, assuming whoever the man was, he was likely in the throes of a bad high and he wanted no parts of it. Yet, before he even crossed the man's path, he noticed the Ferrothorn occasionally waving a long tendril to try and get the attention of passersby, most of whom tugged their clothes tighter and sped up guiltily to get away from the discomforting sight. Grimsley groaned and ran fingers through his lengthy black hair. _Don't do it, Grim. Don't do it. Don't do it._

He paused in front of the man and then bent down to his knees, snapping fingers in front of his face. _Damn it, Grim,_ he thought annoyedly to himself. _Look what you're getting yourself into now…_ The man failed to react at all to Grimsley's snapping, though the Ferrothorn perked up and eagerly shook its trainer with its vines. Shaking his head in disappointment, Grimsley batted away the man's hands and pressed his forefinger to the other's chin, forcing him to look up so he could get a look at their face. His heart plummeted when he did, the tangy scent of alcohol plain to smell on the other's breath, recognizing those spacey, amber eyes beneath a large, round set of glasses as a very familiar challenger of the Elite Four. Grimsley immediately withdrew his hand, blinking fervently. _"Vince?"_ he asked incredulously.

"Huh?" was all he received in response. Vince struggled to hold his head up to overlook Grimsley, seeming as confused as ever, as if he had never seen the Dark-type user he had battled so many times over so many years before in his life. Realizing that between the effects of the alcohol and his own attempt at keeping a low-profile that Vince wouldn't recognize him, Grimsley heaved a weary sigh.

"It's Elite Four Grimsley," Grimsley explained in little more than a deadpanned whisper. Vince's face briefly lit up knowingly, and he jolted as if he had started to stand, but had immediately decided it was too much effort. Attempting to grab his hands to help haul him up, Grimsley pressed, "You're Vince Whitacre, right? What're you doing out here half-passed out in the street?"

Admittedly, Grimsley was more disturbed by the sight than he likely had any right to be. He wasn't unused to inebriated friends, nor was he a stranger to the bliss drunken ignorance could bring, but Vince had never struck him as… _the type._ His jovial attitude and tame humor, suitable for all audiences, certainly had made this view of him a shock. Then again… he supposed he had only really ever known the man through the heat of battle. Though he was used to that being an effective way for him to quickly read new people, he had learned time and time again it wasn't always the _proper_ way depending on the individual.

"Yeah, 'm Vince," the other answered slowly, as if solving a complicated equation rather than answering the simple question Grimsley had presented to him. To Grimsley's latter inquiry, he just shook his head in poorly controlled movements. "I don't… don' know…."

It was then that Grimsley just pulled the other to his feet. Having overestimated how much effort would be required for that (Vince was surprisingly light, all things considered), Vince was pulled awkwardly close, into something of an unintended embrace. Frowning, Grimsley tried to hook an arm beneath one of Vince's so that he could still assist the other in walking but wouldn't be quite hugging him. The entire time, Vince just let Grimsley do what he wished, occasionally grunting or coughing, but never disputing what was happening. Grimsley swore his Ferrothorn looked relieved once they started walking, headed towards a hotel. Sure, he technically could have grabbed a room in the Pokémon Center hostel, which was far closer, but he knew from experience that recovering from such a wretched night by the bottle was made much easier by nicer accommodations. At some point, he convinced Vince to recall the Ferrothorn so they could focus on him.

He wasn't all that sure why he had decided to stop and help Vince that day. There were plenty of other times he had skipped past people begging on Castelia's streets, other people that looked like they had all but overdosed, even past a couple skirmishes in its alleyways. He usually notified the police if he was truly concerned, of course, but he almost never got personally involved. Yet… seeing such a normally exuberant challenger so lost and uncharacteristically broken on the street had moved him. At the hotel, he easily convinced the staff to turn a blind eye to Vince's state (normally, that stately hotel would have balked at the idea of letting someone so clearly intoxicating stay within its rooms) with a few extra dollars, and to a room with two twin beds they went.

For a few hours, Vince simply sprawled across his own bed, wordlessly fighting off his drunken state, but as Grimsley killed time by petting his Liepard and watching the TV, he realized that Vince wasn't falling asleep. He found that odd, knowing that most that drunk would have long since passed out. Finally, curiosity trumping his certainty that Vince needed peace and quiet, he asked, "Why don't you try and go to sleep?"

"Can't," came a curt, quiet response.

"Why not?" Grimsley didn't care for beating around the bush.

There was a long pause, as if Vince were piecing together his answer again. "Ghetsis's planning hits'on people," he slurred at last, still not turning to face Grimsley. "Harmonias…"

Blinking dumbly, Grimsley couldn't help the twinge of obvious amusement in his voice. "The… guy who leads Team Plasma? The pokémon activist? He's planning what now? _Hits?"_ He wanted to laugh. It wasn't funny that _that_ was what was keeping Vince up; rather, it was the hilarity of imagining that frail old man, a _pokémon rights activist,_ ordering murders like shoes from a catalogue. "My, my, what exactly did you drink tonight, Vincey? I might need to try it sometime."

Vince shifted on the bed, attempting a few times to sit up before he succeeded. "Knew it," he huffed afterward.

"Knew what?" Grimsley honestly really was curious to know what Vince had gotten into that evening right about then…

"Nothing," Vince yawned, then went like he was going to stand. Recognizing that would likely end terribly, Grimsley hopped up and darted over to gently press the other on the shoulder back down.

"What'd you need?" Grimsley asked pointedly at Vince's dead-eyed stare.

The other waved away his hand, and then stood up before Grimsley could shove him again. Abruptly, Vince snatched Grimsley by his shirt, then went in for a kiss. Shocked (and, admittedly, amused more than anything), Grimsley gripped Vince by his wrists tightly and shuffled the other a few steps back. "Whoa, whoa," he laughed fitfully, "I bat for both teams, but uh… you're married, and you're _very_ drunk, and…" He trailed off, trying so hard to fight off the snickers to spare Vince's sensitive feelings in that moment, but it was just so _funny!_ "I know I'm just _that_ attractive," Grimsley teased, "but you should get some sleep."

However, Vince didn't seem so entertained. He stubbornly and shakily stepped forward again, this time merely wrapping his arms around Grimsley in a hug, leaning his head down on the Elite Four member's chest rather than going in for a kiss. Although Grimsley still held a firm grip on Vince's wrists, he had allowed them to be drawn to his sides in Vince's attempt at an embrace. "Felt nice earl'er," Vince mumbled in the awkward silence that followed.

"Oh, you mean when…" _You mean when I helped you up off the ground earlier…_ Sighing, Grimsley pushed on Vince again, a little more firmly pushing him back into his bed. "Look, seriously, I'm flattered," he chuckled, "but I can promise you, you'll regret something like this."

Vince mutinously huffed and withdrew his hands at last, flopping on the bed over the comforter. "Nope," he deliriously muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he closed his eyes.

Grimsley raised a brow, a smirk still playing at his lips. "Nope what?"

"Won' regret an'thing," he answered matter-of-factly, slightly smirking as well.

Grimsley felt a small rush of relief at that look on his face. It seemed more natural. Still, he snorted in amusement and strode back to his own bed. "You're right, you won't, 'cause it's not happening. Now, get your ass to sleep and I can talk to Burgh tomorrow and see about getting you a couple days off or something to go home—"

"No!" Vince fiercely cut him off, scrambling to sit up. He succeeded only to collapse to the floor in his tangled feet, drawing a pillow with him in his fervor. Even so, he repeated himself from the floor on the other side of his bed, "No! Don' want… don' wanna go h-home…"

Having already leapt to assist, Grimsley groaned as he helped Vince up yet _again,_ knowing already he'd likely have to fend the others zealous affections off all over again. Still, he had to admit… It had been quite alarming for Vince to react with such desperation to the idea of going home to his family… Not that Grimsley was a stranger to avoiding his family, but that was beside the point.

As he helped him into his bed once more, Grimsley chanced sitting down next to him, just in case. Wincing, Vince rubbed his forehead, likely feeling the sharp bite of a headache setting in.

"Uh, I know it's none of my business…" _And I have no idea why I care so much. This was supposed to be my night of fun… ughhhh._ "But, why don't you wanna go home? I know you train under Burgh, and he tells me you train there a lot, way more than some of his other trainers…" _Huh. Why didn't I piece that together before? He trains there a lot more because he doesn't want to go home. Of course… I'm supposed to be good at reading people._ "But why don't you wanna go home for a while?"

Rolling over onto his side and tucking his knees close to his chest, Vince spat in a jarringly angry hiss, "Hate it there."

More and more concerned by the second, Grimsley gnawed his lower lip and then almost ashamedly pressed a palm to Vince's left shoulder, comfortingly rolling the fingers to almost massage him. "And… why's that?"

"Amber," Vince answered bluntly.

"Your wife?" Grimsley didn't know Vince's home life that well, but he did know that Vince was married and had a single son, so by process of elimination, he reached such a conclusion. Mouth drying a little in dread, he rubbed the back of his head with his free hand anxiously. Cracking a grin before he even made his stupid joke, trying to break the tension, he snarked, "Well, I've heard women can be a bit of a handful sometimes, but is she so bad she's turning you gay?"

Vince wasn't quite so amused. He silently stared at the wall ahead of them just long enough for it to be uncomfortable, but not so long that Grimsley changed the subject. In the end, he mumbled, "Jus'… lonely…"

 _I am nowhere near drunk enough to deal with this,_ Grimsley thought almost despairingly. Gathering his thoughts, he came up with something to say in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm not exactly the best source for marriage advice considering I've never held a relationship for more than six months and definitely never married," Grimsley joked, "but something tells me _this_ isn't the way to go about it."

More silence from Vince, and the other yawned widely after a bit. Hoping that meant he'd fall asleep soon, Grimsley decided to just sit there until he did, sympathetically rubbing his shoulder. When Vince dozed off at long last, Grimsley, moving painfully slowly so as not to risk waking him again, covered him with the blanket, removed his glasses so that he wouldn't break or bend them, and then retreated to his own bed, killing all sources of light and noise in the room. He didn't even care that he was still wide awake or bored; keeping Vince asleep was the priority right then.

Sprawling on his back in his own bed, Grimsley looked over at his Liepard. Purring, she kneaded the covers next to him, taking up significantly more space on the bed than he did. "Almost couldn't get him off me," Grimsley laughed to her as quietly as he could manage. "Either I'm irresistible, or Amber's a nightmare." In truth, he was quite certain it had just been the alcohol talking.

But Grimsley had never discovered what Vince had been drinking that night and he had never taken anything Vince had said all that seriously. Close to three years later, he still found himself thinking back to that night, often as he stared down the bottom of a wine glass or, in many cases when he wasn't working, just a straight liquor bottle. Following his 'resignation' from the Pokémon League (more like a firing, really; Iris had framed it with pretty words, but the choice was his to resign or wait to be fired), he now had just a few days before he would properly move out, and start the rehab process—which he knew nothing about, he thought bitterly (although it wasn't as if nobody were available to help or as if he was lacking in the resources to find out what he needed to know; he was just stubborn).

Tapping of shoes on his hardwood floors made him glance up from his drink, blinking blearily at Church as he entered the living room. Immediately upon spotting him and the bottle at his hand, the redhead's expression soured, hardening into something much more distant and accusatory. "Damn it, Grimsley," Church hissed, _"you_ were supposed to pack some today… I know I said I'd help tomorrow, but that doesn't mean leave _everything_ to me tomorrow."

"Sure, it does," Grimsley retorted right away. It wasn't a thought-out response. It was a knee-jerk, annoying remark, intended to simply satisfy the other party and make them leave him alone. In moments like right then, when he was mulling over that fateful evening in Castelia, he didn't have the energy to spend on thinking up something decent to say. Vaguely, in the back of his groggy mind, he felt a little bad about that; Church had been nothing but patient, and he knew he was burning his bridges with his former apprentice by being so callous. Though kind and patient, Church was no stranger to standing up for himself.

Still… he was just too lost in his thoughts. Although Unova had been saved from Team Plasma's reign in the end, so much had been damaged, so much had been lost, and so many had been hurt in the long, tumultuous process. Vince's eventual suicide, the terrorist attack on the Pokémon League, the terrorist attack on Opelucid City—had Grimsley simply taken Vince more seriously that evening, had he simply bothered to tell someone in the League or the police Vince's fear over Ghetsis ordering hits on the Harmonias, however eccentric it sounded, then perhaps… Perhaps so much death and destruction could have been averted. Sure, the attack on the Pokémon League had been devastating, but he had managed to pick himself up off the ground for a time, long enough to convince himself they would handle Neo Plasma better.

Yet, as time drew on, and the effects of that became more known (including the loss of most of Victory Road, requiring brand new excavation to replace), and after the attack on Opelucid, which had incurred a devastating number of deaths, and finally, after Hil, Vince's son, had risen up to outrank even the Champion of Unova themselves? All of that had slowly broken Grimsley down over time, losing himself more and more in bottles, and _every single bad_ _night,_ all he could think about was that time in Castelia.

He wished he would have just kept walking and ignored Vince, or he wished he would have done something with the knowledge the other had imparted on him. Perhaps he even wished he might have given Vince some of the attention he had been so desperate for that evening. Maybe it would have helped or at least given him some _joy_ or _pleasure_ in the final weeks of his life. He felt like he, along with so many others, had failed Vince—and in a roundabout way, had failed Hil, his remarkable son that had grown so spectacularly.

"Once you're out of here," Church's biting tone wrenched him from his thoughts, "if you don't get some help, we're _done."_ His green eyes were narrowed furiously. "I mean it. I'm not doing _this_ again, watching someone tear themselves apart over and over. You're getting help or I'm through with you. Are we clear?"

Huffing, Grimsley put his forehead in his palm. "What are you—"

"Are we _clear?"_ Church cut him off impatiently.

"I fuck around and don't get help, you cut me off, got it," Grimsley muttered solemnly. He supposed he'd have to look into getting help, then. Church was about the only real friend he had left. Even so, the story regarding Vince and the hotel in Castelia was a secret he was willing to take to the grave, no matter how toxic it might have felt to do so, no matter how unpleasant it was to remember on a sober mind. After a short pause, in which shame washed over him in tides, Grimsley guiltily whispered, "I'm sorry, Church…"

Reluctantly, Church murmured, "I'm sorry, too, that I can't… can't deal with this. I just… I just hope you get the help you need…"

There was a small flutter of hope at that, and Grimsley managed to pull his head up and smile slightly at Church. "I'll do my best… You gonna take good care of the League for me?"

Smirking nervously, Church thumbed a Premier Ball on his belt. "I do have Victini," he snickered, "I should hope I'll give anyone a good fight."

"I know you will," Grimsley yawned. Shaking the bottle in his hand, he pursed his lips disappointedly, setting it down on the table in front of him. "I know _you_ will…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an announcement, but I have honestly typed it out so many times, I'd rather just link directly to the announcement post on Tumblr. Even if you don't have Tumblr, you should still be able to view this post. If you're on FFN Mobile, you can just copy and delete the spaces, but if you're on the desktop website you'll have to manually retype the link.
> 
> Anyway, here: https://www.tinyurl.com/pkmnretoldancmt
> 
> TL;DR: Real life is really, really bad and I may be getting saddled with a surprise 10,000+ dollar charge from my college which has apparently taken advantage of me during the coronavirus pandemic. I'm fighting to get the charges dropped but I can't guarantee it thanks to their rigged appeal system (college is George Mason University btw, all colleges suck and are designed to bleed you dry, but this one has been literal hell on Earth imo). That link talks about a P*treon (seriously, you censor that AO3? wow ok), which I want to use as a sort of "tip jar" for fanfiction as well as fanart, with pledges starting at 5 dollars. Higher tiers offer commissions. There's also a link to a if you want to just tip or can't afford 5 dollars (I'm not making fun of anyone, I've been in a position where even 5 dollars was too much). I also do not expect everyone to rush to pay me or anything. I just am desperate and that is why I'm at this point. As soon as I get a few pledges, or after August 24th, all my works will be posted to my P*treon 2 weeks prior to being posted to FFN, AO3, or Tumblr. So, while I might go inactive for 2 weeks once I start that, after that two weeks is up, you'll see me start to post regularly again.
> 
> I'm really sorry. I am just kind of at my wits end, but I am hoping that between this, me getting a job, and getting my health back on track, things might finally start looking up. And again, I understand everyone has it bad right now, I'm just... a little desperate at this point. I'll be posting a similar addendum to this to my next Ultra Sun chapter, since I know not that many people read these in comparison to that one.
> 
> EDIT: fixed continuity error - Grimsley didn't have Absinthe the Liepard yet at this point, so it's a different Liepard


	5. Something More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hil wrestles with guilt over what Reshiram did to one of the Shadow Triad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~10 months after Black 2  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Fluff. All the fluff. I'm really not sorry. Though there is some minor blood mention (mostly through recollections of the battle aboard the Frigate from Black 2). Also, I realized like 4k words in that uh, it didn't make a lot of sense for neither of them to have their pokémon out, since Hil likes to let his team out while he sleeps and N kinda isn't a huge fan of Poké Balls, but… I really don't wanna potentially ruin the flow by going in and adding little addendums about their pokémon here and there. So just imagine Noodle is in there somewhere and N's Zoroark is probably out of its Poké Ball too lol. It's fluff, dangit, I'm sorry! Lol I started writing this at 12am and could not stop (it's currently 4am. Aaaaa)  
> Characters: Hilbert (Hil), N, Reshiram  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

The scent of blood was heavy on the air and the breeze lashed his face, bitterly cold to the point it felt like daggers digging into his skin, and strong enough to blow him away. Hil gritted his teeth and dug his shoes into the wooden deck below him, but when he looked up, all he could see was the battered, broken Plasma Frigate ahead of him, Reshiram divebombing it again and again with Fusion Flares. Yet, there was nobody else aboard the crumbling ship… Feeling like something sticky was covering his hands, Hil flicked his wrists and then gasped at the red fluid that was slung to the deck. Shakily turning over his palms to look at them, he blanched at the thick, scarlet coating over his hands. Then, Reshiram landed in front of him, and a powerful gust of wind knocked him to his stomach.

Immediately, the biting cold was gone and the pain from hitting the ground seemed much more real. Groaning, he leaned up and blinked fervently as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hotel room, discovering he was laying against the tiled floor and cocooned in thrashed blankets. He dazedly tried to unravel himself, turning over, but jumped when N scrambled over to him. In his grogginess from having woken up so suddenly, he had almost forgotten N was even there… He gave N an apologetic, almost nervous smile for that, even though he knew it wasn't like N could have known.

"Hil, are you alright?" N asked fretfully as he cautiously leaned over to help him out of the blankets. "What happened…?"

"Yeah, sorry," Hil mumbled as he grasped N's hand, leaning on him as he unfolded his legs to stand up. He winced at N's second question. Sighing, he pondered what to say. The truth? He knew what the nightmare had been about.

Every now and then, he'd have some variation of the same setup. He would be aboard the Plasma Frigate, alone, with Reshiram somehow involved. Sometimes, she would fiercely roar in his face and that would wake him up; sometimes, she'd land in front of him with a person's broken body in her jaws. The nightmares were always gory and unpleasant, and somehow, he would always wake up knowing exactly what they were getting at… Though, he supposed that wasn't so strange. Even in his waking hours, he'd sometimes think back to the Shadow Triad member that had informed him the Plasma Frigate had been a decoy, and how Reshiram had callously then dispatched him.

In the wake of the events aboard the Frigate, cleanup efforts resulted in bodies getting recovered from the ship. Among them had been that Shadow Triad member (the other two, along with Dr. Colress and Rosa, had never been found despite their best efforts in searching over Unova). If he were honest, it disturbed Hil on a haunting level that man had been killed while trying to assist him, not to mention how part of him was convinced the Shadow Triad didn't mean any harm to begin with and were somehow victims as well in all of it. After all, despite telling him that they couldn't let him kill Ghetsis, they had reassured him that Ghetsis wouldn't survive their encounter, nonetheless (though they had yet to locate his body, and Hil doubted they ever would). Every time he thought of that chilling, final encounter with the remaining brothers, a tremor of guilt would crawl up his spine. While one of them had lain dead and mangled aboard the Frigate, his brothers had assisted Hil one, final time, coyly finding a loophole in Ghetsis' control… Had they even known…? If they did, would they have even had the capacity to care?

Regardless, he had wanted to talk to Reshiram, to understand why she had chosen to murder that one so coldly, but frustratingly enough, he had found it impossible to communicate with her following that fateful battle in the Giant Chasm. She didn't seem upset with him and could stay out of her Light Stone form for as long as she pleased nowadays, but he just couldn't… _talk_ to her like he had during their battle with Ghetsis and Kyurem. It was absolutely maddening! Part of him thought N could have helped him, but…

How could he have expressed all of that to N? N, who had been held _captive_ by the Shadow Triad as well as Ghetsis to the point that he grew restless and upset staying in one place too long? In fact, they were currently staying at a hotel in Hoenn, quite the distance from Unova, _because_ of N's need for new sights and smells. They had a few more days slated out before they would return to Unova to complete the tasks that had surely been piling up for them. It was a tense routine they had started to fall into following Hil's realization that N had felt trapped at the Pokémon League. That he hadn't even realized he was _allowed_ to leave it.

"Hil?" N pressed softly when Hil didn't answer, wrenching him from his stupor. "What's wrong…?"

Hil sucked in a fast breath and sat down on the (now blanketless) bed behind him. No, he couldn't talk to N about that. N had been through so much more than he possibly could have ever hoped to understand, and what if he were hurt by Hil showing pity for his previous captors? "Sorry," he mumbled, "It was nothing. Just a dumb nightmare. Didn't make any sense." _That sounded pathetic even to me. I can see Reshiram rolling her eyes at me now for how see-through that lie was._

Shuffling away, N crossed his arms, and an awkward silence started to build. Hil's heart pounded more and more as it stretched on, until he snatched the blankets from the floor and tossed them back on his twin bed. He didn't bother rearranging them, but he just wanted something, anything to break this miserable silence, something to send N away so he could go back to—

"You've been having a lot of nightmares," N interrupted his thoughts. Freezing briefly, Hil then licked his suddenly clammy lips and locked his stare on N. He still wore that off-white bandage around his head, hiding his missing eye from sight, but Hil had learned to read his expressions expertly in the time they had spent together since then. Right then, N had a sour, almost cagy, expression, one that radiated… disappointment? Hil didn't know what to make of that. All he knew was that he wanted N to go back to bed, so he could go back to bed, and forget all about this awkward conversation, wherever it was headed. He tensed slightly as N kept speaking. "I may have just one eye now, but I am not blind to how you clearly do not want to talk to me about this, whatever it is… I don't blame you for having nightmares. There are countless experiences I know you've been through that could cause them." N shifted his weight from side to side and his hands slowly dropped to his sides. "But… I don't understand why you don't want to talk to me about them… You have told me so much. I have told you so much… You have helped me whenever I have fought with nightmares. Especially if I ever woke in a fashion much like you just did. So… why do you not want to tell me?"

Feeling like a Deerling in headlights at N's blunt, yet respectful questioning, Hil's mouth fell open but no words came out. He didn't know what to say to that… "It's just… nothing I want to worry you about," he responded lamely at last, feeling his stomach twist into anxious knots. No longer able to meet N's single eye, Hil looked at his fidgeting hands and then pulled his feet to the bed, intending to curl back up and tell N he was tired. Just as he went to open his mouth to say so, however, N cut him off.

"I have spent a lot of my life with others deciding what I was allowed to know or not. Do you intend to do that as well?" he asked matter-of-factly, with the mildest inflection of annoyance. When Hil looked up at him this time, the corner of N's lips twitched with a hint of well-restrained frustration, and then he moved to sit down on the bed next to Hil. His movements were stiff and almost… cautious. Almost instinctively, Hil maneuvered so that he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed again, maintaining that distance between himself and N. Although N hadn't been able to explain to him exactly why, Hil knew that the other could be finicky about close contact with people. Sometimes, he found it comforting, and would welcome hugs or at least tolerate being near others, while there were other times where N would bristle at contact and would, quite vocally, ask to not be touched. Over time, Hil had learned to pick up on the subtle differences in N's movements to know when was or wasn't a good time to approach him—and now was definitely not one of those times, based on the tension in his form and the way he was averting his gaze.

Not that Hil could blame him. Shame made his cheeks burn red as he heard N's question, and his hands immediately fidgeted more, starting to shake slightly. Damn his anxiety. "N… no," Hil weakly mumbled through uncooperative lips. "I don't… I'm not trying to… trick you, or anything…"

"Yet, you were lying to me… were you not?"

Exasperated, Hil groaned and hung his head. "When you put it like that, it sounds so much worse than what it is!"

N sounded a little more frustrated then. "So, what is it, then? If it's not that bad, why is it such a secret?"

"People are allowed to not tell others things sometimes, N," Hil defensively retorted before he stopped to think. Almost right away, he cringed at the snappiness in his tone. Also since he and N had become the Consuls of Unova, he had come to understand that N had a very direct way of communicating. He didn't understand nuances or social cues that well, and the concepts of insinuations or passive-aggression were lost on him. So, he knew that N couldn't have possibly meant to suggest he didn't deserve privacy, and most likely wouldn't have understood his snippy reply in the slightest. Turning a worried look to N, he was proven correct by how the other looked utterly stunned.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hil blubbered in a panic, covering his face. "Look… I'm… I'm sorry. It was a nightmare about the Plasma Frigate. You know how I said Reshiram… Reshiram killed one of the Shadow Triad in front of me? Every now and then, I just… I just feel so bad about it. I feel so bad for him, and for his two brothers, and I know that's stupid because they helped keep you a prisoner in that madhouse of Ghetsis', and that's why I didn't want to talk about it, because you don't need to feel pity for people who helped abuse you, and—"

"Hil," N interjected gently, finally bringing Hil's anxious run-on sentence to an end. With something Hil swore was a twinge of amusement, N asked, "Is that really it?"

Daring to move his fingers to cautiously eye the other through the gaps between them, Hil swallowed hard. "Um… yeah, that's… that's pretty much it…"

Giving a relieved sigh, the tension in N's form left with the very air he exhaled. "I really thought it would be something so much worse," he chuckled lightly. Shaking his head, making his messy, green hair fan out over his shoulders, he turned a sad smile on Hil. "Hil, I don't hold anything against the Shadow Triad… They were just as used as I was." His smile dissipated as he curled his lips slightly in disgust. "Even when I was little… I knew that something was… incorrect with them. Even with the limited group of people I was allowed around, I could tell they didn't behave like others… For a while, I'll admit, that made me like them a lot. I felt like they might understand me, because I didn't feel like I fit in with other humans well, either. Of course, I learned that they didn't get me, and that they really didn't understand much of anything and were just obedient, but… I really liked them when I was little." N almost wistfully tilted his head and closed his eyes. "Ghetsis… did not name them… I thought that was really sad when I was young. All humans in the stories I had read or that I had met had names, so I thought it was only fitting they should have one, too." He laughed. "I asked them what they would like to be called."

Relaxing at N's unexpectedly sympathetic reaction, Hil lowered his hands from his face and scooted closer to the other. Still trembling thanks to the close call with a panic attack a moment ago, he tenderly quavered, "So… What did they say?"

"That they didn't understand," N snickered. Taking a deep breath, he added, "I tried to explain a few times, but they still didn't get it. Like the entirely uncreative person I am, I dubbed them Quiet, Whisper, and Loud…" There was a short pause. "I never called them that around anyone else, though, and quit calling them it altogether once I was older… By the time I was finally allowed out of… there… I'm sad to admit that I saw them as… Ghetsis wanted me to… Tools to serve Team Plasma's purpose. I didn't mean to view them that way…" He shook his head vigorously and then pulled himself farther onto the bed, daring to move a hand forward to clasp it over one of Hil's against the mattress, making Hil freeze and his breath hitch. "I am not upset with you for feeling bad about what happened to Whisper, Hil…"

Genuinely smiling back at him, Hil felt emotion rising in his throat some. Biting his lower lip to try to fight it off, he nodded. "Thank you…" _Even though that's not it…_ Hil wanted to banish that thought so badly. He didn't want to get into the messiness of how he felt frustrated about failing to communicate with Reshiram. This bittersweet, reminiscent discussion was something he wanted to cling to, maybe steer the conversation into another exchange of their radically different childhoods, laughing and grinning about the good times (however few there were) and wincing and comforting one another over the bad times. Yet, his mouth felt like lead as N's earlier words rang in his head, reminding him he wasn't being honest.

"You can tell me stuff, too, you know," N whispered, as if guessing what Hil was thinking. He squeezed Hil's hand slightly. Face still a little red, Hil slowly turned his hand over and clasped his (admittedly somewhat sweaty) palm to N's hand, intertwining his fingers with N's. "I know you have, ah… helped and saved me often in the past," N started gingerly, "but Hil, when I apologized for you having to save me again… I think I perhaps conveyed myself poorly."

Blinking confusedly, Hil cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean…?" Although Hil could tell this was important for N to talk about, he had to admit, remembering the way N had apologized to him after he had dealt with Ghetsis back in the Giant Chasm was heartbreaking. It had pained him so deeply, for N to be there, bleeding out, and still apologizing to him… Just the memory made Hil's jaw clench and it took everything in his power to keep from tightening his grasp on N's hand. Nobody had a way of bringing out that furious, almost feverish desire to protect in him quite like N could.

"I was not feeling bad for myself," N explained. "At least, I don't think so… I was sorry because I had not been as strong as I could be… You have such a way of catching me in my moments of weakness," he snorted, "that I think you have mistaken me for someone far weaker and frailer."

"What? No, not at all," Hil defended himself a little too quickly, and a little too squeakily. N's smile vanished and he gave Hil such a pointed look with that single, gray eye. Shrinking under just that look, Hil squirmed, laughing halfheartedly. "Right… sorry, go on…"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," N sighed. "Hil, I'm not going to shatter to pieces if you talk to me more. I don't need safeguarding. I'm not a prince locked in a tower anymore. Ghetsis is gone. _We_ lead Unova _together._ First and foremost, many people rely on us now… And I fear what may become of those that rely on you… or care for you"—N flicked his gaze to the side—"if you refuse to talk to me… or, er, _anyone,_ about what is upsetting or bothering you…"

For as reserved as his words sounded and as subtle as his body language was, Hil caught on immediately to the way N was subversively admitting to caring about him, to _worrying_ about him. In one swift moment, all Hil's anxiety was traded in for a rush of warmth that made the almost goofy, happy smile on his face grow even broader. Not to mention, the very sentiment in his words might have made him melt all on their own. Together. They led Unova together… and Hil had apparently made N feel excluded and worried by keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself. As quickly as the gust of warmth had come, it started to ebb, and he gnawed his lower lip again, dropping his gaze to the bed. "I'm sorry, N," Hil murmured, "I never meant to treat you like… like…" Oh, Arceus, how could he have explained? It was _N._ Hil didn't know what it was about him, but the idea of hurting N or of him being in harm's way made him want to coil around the other like a protective mother Beartic. He had seen N undergo so much, and he had so nearly lost him once before… it was so _hard_ not to inadvertently treat him like a glass statue… Emotion choking his words somewhat, Hil whimpered, "I just… I want to keep you safe…"

"I am safe," N said simply, tugging on Hil's hand a little. "I am safe with you. You have made it clear time and time again that I am safe with you, that you do not intend to harm me… but, Hil?"

"Yeah…?"

Almost reluctantly, N said, "I… want to help you, too. I want to keep you safe, too… And you bottling yourself up and never really coming to me with stuff to talk about… I dislike that more than if you would simply talk about it… Even if some of it maybe _is_ uncomfortable…" Breaking the tension with a slight laugh, he raised his visible brow at Hil. "Am I making any sense…?"

He was making perfect sense, and as guilty as Hil felt for making N feel like he was being coddled, his heart was swimming on fuzzy feelings that honestly made it difficult to consider the guilt or anxiety anymore. Again, he recognized the situation as a potentially romantic one, and yet again, calling it that would have felt insulting. Perhaps it was the fact that N still didn't have a fantastic grasp of what a romantic relationship was, but the way N described the way he wanted to care for Hil just sounded so wholesome and… Hil cherished it so much. It left him feeling so full in a way only N could seem to do. "Yeah, you are," Hil finally replied, grinning almost giddily. "You're right… You're right. It's not fair to you for me to hold back and decide for you what you can't or… can't handle. We're in this together." Casting a look at his bag across the room, hanging on the back of the hotel's door, Hil gestured toward it with a nod. "So, here goes… I wanted to talk to Reshiram so I could ask her why she… killed, that member of the Shadow Triad… I mean, Whisper." N might have quit calling them by their names a long time ago, but Hil suddenly found the idea of continually referring to the deceased brother namelessly unpleasant. "But I haven't been able to talk to her at all since the Giant Chasm… She hasn't been upset with me, or anything, I don't think, just…"

"Oh, is that what you want to do?" N perked up, a delighted smile spreading across his face. "I, um… I didn't know you were actually interested in honing that skill further…"

Practically gaping at him, Hil incredulously chuckled and asked, "Why on Earth wouldn't I want to learn to do that more? Hello, I'd get to talk to a legendary pokémon! Not to mention how much easier it'd be to tell Noodle to get off my shoulders whenever his brain scrambles and he thinks he's a Servine again…"

Giggling back at him, N's cheeks were dusted a rosy pink in embarrassment, something that hit Hil with another pang of warmth, only this time it hit more like a truck and less like a gentle wave. Almost like a yearning ache. "I just… I had it beaten into my head for so long that talking to pokémon was taboo and strange and humans hated it…" N still sounded amused, but there was quite the raw undertone to it. "I suppose I just figured you weren't interested since you never talked about it ever again… and I didn't want to bring it up in case it… _did_ upset you…"

"Are you kidding?" Hil abruptly flopped down closer to N, never letting go of his hand as he did (in fact, he brought it against his chest as he sat down again, and it took everything in his power to exercise the self-control it took not to kiss it, as even he recognized in his giddy state that might have been pressing his luck). "Your whole thing with talking to pokémon is awesome. That is so nothing to be ashamed of!" Smirking a little, he taunted, "I've even heard Nathan complain about how he wishes he could do that, and you know Mister Man doesn't show envy." Rolling his eyes, Hil mocked Nathan's gruffer, throatier voice and said, "Since, y'know, he's a tough guy and all that. He 'doesn't need any help!'"

Covering his mouth, Hil could tell N was trying not to laugh, but an ugly snort betrayed his amusement and his face flushed an even darker red. Gathering his composure, he straightened his back out and, with a hint of pride that pleased Hil to hear, mused, "Well… It's a little late right now, but I would be happy to try to help you and Reshiram tomorrow… I suppose I could just talk to her for you, though, and that would also get you your answer."

Hil didn't even ponder that. "No… I wanna know how…" A little teasingly, he added, "I wanna see the world through your eyes, man. Er… Eye?"

"That should not be funny, and yet I feel like laughing," N almost pouted.

"I think that kind of humor is 'irony,'" Hil laughed.

"Mm. I think you do that one a lot."

Shrugging, Hil smirked, "Yeah, that, bad puns, and just all around terrible jokes are kind of my thing. Hey, maybe soon you'll understand why Cheren groans all the time at me!" Pausing to blink, Hil tossed his head back. "Oh, no. Soon you'll understand why Cheren groans all the time at me, and then you'll start doing it, too, 'cause you'll start to get why all my jokes are so bad."

There was a long silence before N, nervously despite the amusement lacing his voice, tried to coyly say, "W-well… maybe bad jokes are funny in their own way."

 _Oh, my Arceus, I'm gonna die. Is he trying to flirt? Yep, I'm just gonna die now, right here._ His heart felt like it was going to explode. Deciding he had to end this before that actually happened or he somehow ruined this moment, Hil awkwardly let go of N's hand and hopped up off the bed. "Haha, you think so, huh? Well… we should probably get some sleep before tomorrow, at any rate," Hil yawned.

"This is your bed," N blankly said. "Why did you get up?"

"That," Hil pointed at him, "is a very good question." He sat back down, but N didn't get up. After a few uncertain seconds like that, Hil not-so-smoothly questioned, "So… ah… you gonna…?"

"Um…" N clasped his hands together over his lap and stared squarely down at them. "May I stay in your bed for… now…? I know it is a little small…" He swallowed hard. "But I want to… ah… be with you in case you have more nightmares like… that… It looked painful when you hit the floor like that…"

He almost couldn't believe his ears and felt a little silly for the way he beamed stupidly back at N as soon as he said that. "I'd love that, N…" He felt so warm all over, tingly and beyond joyful, to the point his hands felt jittery. He quickly realized they were jittery as he and N worked to fix the bedspread, and then took a few minutes to try to find a comfortable position for each of them in the bed.

Ultimately, Hil found himself pressed against N, with the other winding an arm around him protectively (to 'keep him from falling off the bed again,' in N's words), both sharing the same pillow. Despite how comfortable and lovely it all was, though, it ironically made the idea of falling asleep laughable. Hil had nervously questioned N at first if he was sure about it, only to have the other reassure him he was fine, and then he had even admitted it was a lot nicer than he had been expecting. Deciding to just take it as the compliment it was meant to be at face value, Hil's pride had swelled and he had nestled into the other's hold.

It was a long, long time before he fell asleep and boy, was he exhausted the next day as N hauled him out to the forest to assist him in learning to speak to Reshiram, but it had been _more_ than worth it. He had no idea what to consider himself as N as, but honestly? That was fine by him. They were whatever they were, undefined and unrestricted by labels, and happy that way, learning slowly but surely about one another at their own slow, comfortable pace.

He'd have had it no other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO I HAVE AMAZING NEWS!
> 
> My school decided to have mercy and ISN'T charging me an arm and a leg despite me not actually living on campus! So while I'm still leaving the P*treon up as a tip jar/for commissions, I don't feel like I have to lump my fanfiction work under the "gets posted to P*treon 2 weeks before everywhere else" rule!
> 
> I am so happy! I'll admit that I was really sad about the P*treon deal because I HATE waiting to post my works here to you guys. I get so much fun out of sharing my stuff or even just seeing all my work together under my name under my account. I'll be updating my Tumblr and the actual P*treon page to reflect this change soon. So no 2 weeks of going dark for me bb woo~!
> 
> In other news, if this oneshot is chock full of errors, that's because I basically wrote it in a fluff-brained fervor. I'm very gay and so is Hil and - yknow what, sue me, lol.


	6. Whispers in the Dark: All I Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations between Hil and N.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~5 years after Black 2  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: So I had a few ideas that I wanted to write, but none of them really had a plot, it was more just “hey I want these characters to talk about X thing,” so that’s what “Whispers in the Dark” oneshots are gonna be. No real plot, just two characters rambling at each other. This particular one is fluffy again, though there are some mentions of blood/violence (recollections of the past on N’s part). And of course, it’s a little long since I just kinda let myself go and write as much as I wanted lol.  
> Characters: Hilbert (Hil), N, Noodle and Hil’s other pokémon, N’s Zoroark  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

It was only about seven in the evening, and as such, N was finished with all tasks he had piled up for the day. He and Hil were back in Unova for the time being, and would be for quite a while, thanks to turbulent disagreements over some new laws that he and Hil had fought to get into place (regarding the breeding and keeping of shiny pokémon… that entire process had been headache-inducing, and N had gotten angry about it more than his fair share of times, so he didn’t particularly want to think about it anymore that day). All he really could think about was how depressing it was that pokémon rights activism—the kind that simply pushed for better living conditions for pokémon with humans, not to treat pokémon exactly like humans or whatever ideals Team Plasma had shoved down his throat for him to spew back out at the populace—had been so severely damaged by Team Plasma’s name. The public was suspicious of proposals aimed at bettering the lives of pokémon and could be vocally distrustful of their proponents, as if instinctively convinced there had to be more to it than simply wanting to help pokémon. 

He knew he wasn’t innocent in the cause, either; sure, he had never wanted to hurt anyone, and had been raised in a veil of lies to make him see the world in such a light, but he had been the one to raise the castle from the ground around the Pokémon League. There were still entire routes around it that were closed due to rockslides, and the area immediately surrounding the main Pokémon League building was off-limits due to fears over the instability of the ground, despite the country’s efforts to restore its integrity. It hurt to call it what it was, but that had been a terrorist attack on the Pokémon League. The physical and mental scars from his stay in Team Plasma as their ‘King’ were very just that: scars that would always be visible, even if they faded over time.

He jolted upright in the chair he was sinking into when he heard the front door click. Hil had left earlier that day to talk to Gym Leader Drayden, as well as other high-ranking officials in Opelucid City, as it was one of the most vocally displeased with the new laws. He had told N that he had just wanted to see if he could see what exactly the people there had an issue with, or if it was just flat-out paranoia causing the issues. When the door opened, Hil staggered in and then slammed it behind him, leaning back against it and groaning. “Opelucid’s still such a mess,” he whined. “Yeah, Gym Leader Drayden had actual concerns, but I still have no idea what the police chief woman, whatever her name was, was trying to tell me. I had to get her to write it down to see if Church or Nathan or somebody can decipher her _language.”_

“Mm,” N laughed softly, “it was that bad, was it?” Truthfully, he was elated that Hil was back, and he restrainedly got up out of the chair to go greet him. He really just wanted to dart over and hug him, but he had difficulty allowing himself not to be so mindful and composed of his own movements (even after so much time, proper ‘etiquette for a king’ was still instinctual to him, beaten into his head by the various Sages as he had gotten older. “A King does not run around like a child,” he remembered specifically being chided at one point. At another, after he had excitedly pumped his fist at finally grasping some concept that had been eluding him in a math workbook, “Stop that. People don’t respect someone that so childishly celebrates themselves.”).

At his approach, Hil casually leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him, leaning against his chest, almost. “Yes. I’m ready to be done thinking for the day.” The sight vaguely amused N—Hil was quite a few inches shorter than he was, the top of his head barely coming past his chin—and he stiffly moved his arms to lazily loop around Hil. Before he had a chance to say anything, Hil added resignedly, “Also, Cheren called me about something.”

Frowning, N tilted his head slightly. “About what?”

“Amber’s not doing great,” he sighed, clutching N a little closer. “Apparently, her job in Accumula sent somebody to go knock on her door because she’d missed like four days in a row without calling ahead and wasn’t responding to anything, not even voicemails. Nothing was wrong, really, just she was in her bed and wouldn’t get out of it except to answer the door, and so that person went and told Cheren and…” he trailed off and shook his head against N’s chest. “I don’t like her. At all. I haven’t forgiven her for all she did. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her… I think I’m gonna head down to Nuvema tomorrow. Cheren said he left one of his Watchog with her, and he said that if anything goes wrong,” Hil laughed halfheartedly, “the whole town’ll know.”

“You will need to head there alone, won’t you?” N asked, though it came out sounding more like a statement. He felt a small pang of guilt for that—it wasn’t like Hil wasn’t allowed to go places without him, after all, and he certainly didn’t wish Hil any heartache over his mother—but he couldn’t help the almost childish desire to want to be by his side no matter what. Not to mention, he hated being stuck at the Pokémon League without him… Rarely did their duties require them to be separated, since the Consul position had been built around the idea of the two leaders operating as a team, but it seemed to N that just meant whenever for some reason they did have to separate, it was that much more difficult.

“Yeah,” Hil answered softly, loosening his grasp on N some and backing up a step. With a goofy smile that he was so good at, he shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too long, though… I’m just gonna try to talk to her and see what’s up and see if I can’t suggest something for her to do.” With that, he gingerly took N by the hand and led him over to the couch in the living room, letting him go only to flop down on the left end. His voice hardening some, Hil remarked, “I’m gonna see what I can do to help her, but if she’s just gonna act the victim and try to guilt me, I’ll leave her there. I’m not her bargaining chip anymore. So, either way, it’s not gonna take long.”

Awkwardly sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, N briefly looked for the remote, only to jump when Zoroark rushed up to him with it in her mouth. At his quizzical raise of an eyebrow, she snorted and dropped it in his hands. _You were busy with paperwork and whatever else it is you do most of the day,_ she reminded him. _What did you think I was doing all that time?_

 _Watching TV, apparently,_ N teased. _I don’t know how you watch that thing alone. I hardly understand any of it unless it’s a documentary or I’m watching with Hil. And I’ve tried!_

With a shake of the head that was followed by an eye roll, she limped away from him and her attention was drawn to Noodle as Hil released the Serperior from his Poké Ball. Upon spotting Zoroark, Noodle trilled and shook out the leaves over his body, waving the very end of his tail at her tauntingly. She moved like she was going to chase him, and he zipped around the couch and out of sight, far faster than it seemed a ten-foot, legless creature should have been able to move.

Watching them go, Hil snarked, “Y’know, I’d release the others, but I feel like they’d crash the place.”

“Can always ask them not to,” N chuckled. “My other friends are around here somewhere…”

“Around here somewhere, he says,” Hil laughed. “My guess is… Archeops is in the ceiling fan in our room, considering Klinklang hasn’t fought him over it today, Carracosta is outside trying to catch the sun before it goes down, and Vanilluxe has probably abandoned her funny ice enclosure and decided the freezer was more appealing.”

“You say all of that like it’s a bad thing,” N coyly replied, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. Just in case he was incorrect in assuming Hil was joking, though, he not-so-smoothly added, “Also, Vanilluxe’s enclosure might be fine, but it’s only natural she’d want to explore some like the others…”

“I know, I know,” Hil snickered, “I’m just kidding. Though, I am glad you managed to convince her to learn to shut the door after her… That was fun when we had everything melt into the floor that one day… And also am glad that we found out Archeops was doing that before he completely ruined the fan motor by trying to catch it while it was on…” Shaking his head in amusement, Hil tossed the other six free (N had learned a long time ago that the ‘six pokémon at a time’ rule only applied when people were participating in League matches or, in battle, a person was disallowed from using more than six pokémon maximum), including his Musharna, Zebstrika, Liepard, Simipour, Watchog, and Druddigon. Sleepy, Prada, Lucky, Crest, Roadie, and Shay.

N had never given his pokémon nicknames, but through talking to Hil’s, he had found the pokémon didn’t mind, or in some cases, even enjoyed theirs. An interesting discussion with Lucky had revealed that although she hadn’t understood the name at first, she had heard Hil explain multiple times it was because he felt ‘lucky’ to have caught her at all. Over time, she had come to understand most humans didn’t see Purrloin or Liepard as lucky creatures, or even good pokémon at all, and she had come to appreciate the name so much more. _Every time he says it,_ she had purred as she had rubbed against N’s legs, _I’m reminded of how glad I am to be with a trainer that appreciates me, even if I am not a powerhouse compared to other pokémon… He’s seen the power of a legendary, and still appreciates me. I think that’s really something special._ Following that conversation, N had talked to his pokémon and asked if they had any thoughts about nicknames or wanted any. The consensus from his partners was that while they wouldn’t have minded, they weren’t hurt by the lack of nicknaming. They even appreciated that N had respected them so much that he hadn’t wanted to saddle them with a name that might have meant nothing or even been annoying to them. That all had happened not too long after he and Hil had started staying together at the Pokémon League, and it was one of many eye-opening experiences since then. While he had previously believed nicknames were made by callous trainers that couldn’t have possibly known what their pokémon wanted, he then learned they could be something special, and represent something so much more than a mere label.

“N?” Hil called, in an almost sing-song voice. “You home?”

Jolting out of his thoughts, N blinked at him. “Yes?”

“You’re staring real hard at that remote,” Hil teased. Despite the smirk, his voice dropped to something more tender and he asked, “You okay?”

Setting the TV remote down within Hil’s reach, N nodded. “Oh, yes,” he answered quickly, “sorry…” Pausing, he then shook his head. “I was just thinking about how much I have learned since we started doing… this. Consuls.”

“Yeah?” Hil musingly asked, and although he picked up the remote, he didn’t press any of its buttons and had his eyes squarely trained on N. “What about it?”

“It just amazes me sometimes,” N reluctantly went on. “How much I thought I understood about pokémon and how I spent so much time in that castle learning about them and the world, and yet… I knew practically nothing at all,” he almost laughed, a pained chuckle. “Something as simple as nicknames seemed like such an evil and scary concept back then… I bought so easily into that, where if I had just simply spoken to someone and their pokémon about it sooner, I would have seen how silly that was… Of course, that isn’t the only thing I was led wrong about. It just… is amazing how so many little details I was given to train me against reality.”

Bringing his arms to cross over his chest, N almost hugged himself, even moving so he tucked his legs up on the couch at a slant, his knees pulled partially up to him. Of course, remembering the lies that came with his past was a slippery slope, and the next thought that crossed his mind made him want to cringe and shake. Ghetsis had, at one point, personally brought him a Snivy to his bedroom. The pokémon was wrapped in a white sheet splotched with dark green, and shut the door behind them, signaling to N nobody else would be joining them in that moment. N had immediately dropped the basketball he had been playing with and stiffened his back. Zoroark—a Zorua at the time—had wedged herself between his feet, instinctively cowering in that way she always did whenever Ghetsis was around. N didn’t remember how old he had been exactly, but he was sure he had been somewhere between eight or ten, and Ghetsis had limped over and leaned down, moving the sheet just enough to show N what was wrong with the Snivy in his grasp.

N had recoiled in horror and nearly tripped over Zorua as he backpedaled to his bed, the shock forcing him to take a seat, all of which had made Zorua yelp as she dove under his bed to get away from whatever was going on. Breathing heavily, N had gawked at Ghetsis with round eyes. The Snivy wrapped in the sheet was bleeding profusely and N could only just barely tell that it was alive at all, with the way its eyelids fluttered (though its eyes were rolled into the back of its head). Its tail was in tatters, missing huge chunks, and its lower body had deep, jagged slices cut into it, meaning it had no legs, either, and half of one arm was missing. It had taken a moment for N to finally choke out, “What—what happened to him?” It had never dawned on N until he retroactively looked over the memory that Ghetsis had remained perfectly quiet until N had asked that question. He had kept deliberately quiet because he intended to shock N.

“It was lost by a careless breeder, from one of her prized Serperior’s newest broods, and hit with a lawnmower,” Ghetsis had matter-of-factly explained, then unceremoniously dumped the pokémon in his lap, blood-soaked sheet and all. N was forced to catch it with his shaking hands to keep it from rolling off his lap and into the floor.

“A-and what do I do?” N had asked in a sheer panic. “It’s—it’s going to die, if we can’t get it help!”

“Oh, N,” Ghetsis had almost crooned. “There is no helping a pokémon that injured. You see, that careless breeder didn’t even notice she was missing one of her pokémon, because humans breed pokémon carelessly for profit and for battle. Why bother counting or keeping track when you can always produce more? Moreover, the person that hit this pokémon didn’t even notice, because it could not hear it over the sound of the engine of their lawnmower, and Snivy, as you can see, bleed green. It was the Shadow Triad who brought that poor thing to me. I brought it to you because I want you to see how careless people can be with living creatures, even as defenseless as a two-week-old Snivy.”

“What about the Pokémon Centers?” N had puffed through suddenly very dry lips. His throat had felt coarse and it had been difficult to swallow. Shivering at that point, he had withdrawn his legs and arms to the bed, much like he was currently doing on the couch there with Hil. He had cradled that dying Snivy close, unable to catch his breath, desperate for anything to do to save it or end its suffering, at the very least… The way its eyelid had kept fluttering had made him want to vomit.

“Pokémon Centers are made for healing pokémon after battle,” Ghetsis had nonchalantly informed him. Again, N hadn’t even realized how dissociative Ghetsis had sounded until so many years later… “Pokémon this severely injured are left to die or are euthanized. People see pokémon as easily replaceable. To them, investing time and energy into saving a pokémon this egregiously injured, which may be crippled for the rest of its life even if it did survive, just isn’t a priority, when you could just as easily breed another.”

“N? Hey, you’re scarin’ me a little…”

N blinked and shook his head vigorously, glancing back at Hil. “Hmm…?”

“I tried saying something back to you and you spaced out…” Hil frowned, concern etched all over his face. Brushing a dark, brown curl of hair out of his face, he gently asked, “Did you hear anything I said before I called you just then…?”

N swallowed hard and looked down at his trembling arms, crossed tightly over his chest. “No…”

“You know it isn’t your fault, all those things you didn’t understand or have been relearning…” Hil repeated himself calmly. He didn’t make a move to get any closer or to touch him, and N silently appreciated it. Although Hil loved physical affection whenever his mind spiraled somewhere less than pleasant, N found that he usually didn’t, at least, not when it came to remembering his time in the castle. Usually, once he calmed down some, he would quietly or wordlessly ask for a hug or something, but during, close physical contact had a way of merely stressing him out…

“I know it isn’t… But it still is… unpleasant to think about sometimes,” N mumbled.

“Then, maybe we shouldn’t think about it too much, eh?” Hil looked up thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, “Maybe it’d help to think about when you did start to learn some of that stuff better, huh? I know you still had all of _them_ in your ear while you were traveling Unova and beating the gyms…” As he trailed off, N almost snickered at the way Hil had said ‘them.’ He said it with such _animosity,_ and he seemed intent on never mentioning Ghetsis’ name nowadays if he could help it. Although he didn’t realize it consciously, N did find it cute, how Hil could sound so protective of him when badmouthing Team Plasma and everything they had done. Sure, N had seen firsthand how dangerous Hil could be when he needed to be, but for the most part… Hil was a kind-hearted, anxious, delightful mess, and his threats could come off as childish in idle conversation… Somehow, that just felt even more endearing. “…But when you were fighting the gyms and traveling, you had to have learned some new stuff that made you think… What do you think was the first time anything really seemed to challenge what all _they_ taught you?”

“You should already know that answer,” N laughed, his posture loosening a little at the much more pleasant memory flooding him, instead of that horrific one. He gave Hil an expectant look, still amused when the other’s cheeks dusted red and he nervously smiled.

“Ah… I should?” Hil asked dumbly.

Rolling his eye—N had ultimately decided to get a glass eye to replace his missing one, and the doctors had done such a wonderful job, it was only whenever he did something like this that it was apparent his other eye was false—N mused, “Well… There was this time in a little town named Accumula where I was stocking up on supplies and preparing to go ‘free’ some pokémon from some trainers that had just been given them by a professor in Nuvema. My intention was to set them free and then head to Striaton to challenge one of the triplets. I believe then that I ran into two boys, one with a Snivy and the other with a Tepig, and a girl with an Oshawott.”

Picking up on the game, Hil’s face lit up and he tauntingly pressed, “Are you sure…? I dunno, might’ve been the girl with the Snivy,” he laughed.

N all but groaned. “Anyway,” he pointedly huffed, “that was the first real experience I remember where something… really conflicted with all I had been taught.”

As if on cue, there was the sound of clattering from the kitchen. Hil peaked over the back of the sofa. “They knocked over a chair,” he reported. “No damage, but…” He then tried to articulate in something of a trill, _Noodle, careful!_

Despite the questionable execution, Noodle hissed back after a brief pause, _She did it! She’s using illusions! I didn’t see it there!_

 _And you were using vines,_ Zoroark chimed in smugly with a chuff. _If you use vines, I get to use illusions._

 _On what planet is that fair?_ Noodle moodily huffed.

 _Just… don’t break anything,_ Hil resignedly called after them in something mixed between a growl and a trill, before shaking his head and slumping back down on the sofa. He rubbed his throat. “Yeah, that still hurts a bit,” he chuckled. “Anyway… as you were saying?”

Seeing Hil try to talk to pokémon like that still was so thrilling for N. Despite years of practice, he could still struggle at times, but that didn’t matter at all. N had been told for so long that his ability was hated by humanity and even Ghetsis had hated it when he said anything about speaking to pokémon around him… It had been beaten into his head to never repeat what a pokémon had said to him, or to even acknowledge his ability unless absolutely necessary (and yet, Ghetsis loved to rub it in the faces of any who would listen that N was King because of his ability to understand pokémon…). Still, smiling like a fool after listening to Hil talk to the pokémon, N continued his story at a faster rate, his words naturally kicking up in speed in his excitement, “You had let Noodle out of his Poké Ball during Team Plasma’s speech, and when you did that, he said something… something about how he really liked you already. And even when I tried talking to him briefly before I approached you, from a distance, um… using my ability, I had told him that I was there to set them free. That I was sure all he, the Oshawott, and the Tepig knew was a room in a lab and the confinement of Poké Balls. And after that, he had said that he liked you, that he was going to see more at your side, and that he was done talking to me… unless I could best him in battle. And that was why I wanted to battle you to—”

“Hear my pokémon’s voice again?” Hil cut him off, grinning practically from ear to ear. “Y’know, I always did wonder why you wanted to battle me that day… For someone that hated pokémon battling and all that, you sure were ready to throw hands that day.”

“Even after beating him, he didn’t talk to me anymore,” N snorted. “Well, he did, but all he said was that he wanted me to go away.” He shook his head. “I had… never in my life, until that point, heard a pokémon claim to like a trainer and resist my company over it… At the time, I told myself that pokémon didn’t know any better, that it was little better than Stockholm syndrome, or that Poké Balls somehow brainwashed some pokémon into believing their captors were good unless the person actively abused them… Then, I kept traveling and kept running into pokémon that claimed to like or even love their trainers… Even if I didn’t change right then, looking back on it does feel good… I always knew there was something wrong, even if I couldn’t place it…”

“See?” Hil cheerfully insisted.

N nodded, then wryly added, “But I also kept running into that boy and his Snivy, or Servine… and oh, how he made me _think.”_ Dramatically making a show of huffing in irritation, he then scanned Hil’s expression to ensure he was understanding his teasing. N thought he was replicating how Hil sometimes sarcastically joked, but he still couldn’t be totally sure, so he was relieved to see Hil cackling at him, flushing darker red as he spoke.

“Oh, thinking!” Hil played along. “The horror!”

“You laugh, but to me at that point? It was,” N chuckled. “Every single time I ran into you, more questions were raised about Ghetsis’ plans and all of that, and I just had to stuff them all down and believe I was correct, because I was the ‘Hero of Ideals.’”

“Now that you mention it,” Hil coyly mused, “I remember running into this green-haired dude all the time that loved to show up and drop bombshells, almost every time. But my favorite thing he ever said to me was, ‘Maybe if the world were simply different, we could have been friends.’”

N blinked. “What, really? That?”

“Well, for one,” Hil snorted, “the main reason I was half-obsessed with you, before I knew how wrapped around his thumb _he_ had you, was because of you saying that. How you decided right away that we couldn’t be friends. I didn’t understand you and, uh, 14-year-old, hormone-riddled brain decided, ‘Oh, we can’t be friends, huh? I’ll show you!’ And now, well…” Hil slyly put his hands behind his head, lazily kicking his feet out to the floor. “Wouldn’t you know it, we are friends, aren’t we?”

Opening and shutting his mouth for a second, N then frowned and cocked his head. “Why yes, we are, aren’t we? I had barely even remembered saying that… You took that _that_ seriously?”

“Maybe,” Hil abruptly pulled his hands from behind him and crossed them tightly. A smirk betrayed his amusement (not to mention the still-raging blush over his cheeks). Teasingly, he raised his chin back at N. “Why, you wishing I hadn’t?”

“What? No, not at all,” N uneasily responded as he had difficulty parsing Hil’s reaction, then scooted closer to him. The discomfort from earlier had waned and he wanted to be closer to the other now. Almost purring as he inched his way nearer, N tried to smoothly comment, “I have no idea why you took that remark so seriously… But I am glad you did…”

“I’m just teasing,” Hil softly whispered as he hooked his right arm around N’s left and gently pulled him a little closer, leaning his head down onto his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know why, either.”

“That just seems to be how you are,” N chuckled after he relaxed in Hil’s hold, eventually awkwardly leaning his head over onto Hil’s. “You… are so kind to a fault. I don’t know if anyone else would have been able to fill the role that you have… I’m glad that Reshiram recognized that…” Closing his eyes and sighing contentedly, he then had an evil idea pull his lips into a broad grin. “I certainly can’t imagine sitting here and doing this with Cheren.”

Sputtering, Hil finally incredulously gasped, “Where did that come from?”

“Remember how I was insistent on him being the ‘Hero’ for a while?” N teased, though a small pang of anxiety flared as he wondered if he had gone a little too far with his attempt at humor…

“Oh,” Hil laughed away N’s nerves. He wrapped an arm around N and rubbed his back reassuringly. “Mm, wouldn’t you like that, third wheeling it with him in Nuvema while that wild two-year-old of his tries to eat your hair.”

“What is it with Jessica and my hair?” N complained as he remembered their last few visits to Cheren and Bianca’s. Although their daughter wasn’t old enough to go without supervision that long yet, she could walk, and she had taken a keen interest in N during their visit. Which, despite everyone’s best attempts to keep her away from N, had resulted in her yanking on his lengthy hair more than a few times. Having never interacted with a young child in his entire life, N had already been anxious just by being around her, and that experience certainly hadn’t helped at all. Why did something so cute and small have to be so intimidating…? She seemed fearless, too, for one of the times she yanked on his hair, he hadn’t been expecting it at all and had hissed in surprise, and she had just _laughed!_

“It’s pretty,” Hil replied simply, stroking some of it for emphasis.

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” N almost purred again as he leaned against Hil’s hand. Having someone he trusted and knew didn’t want to manipulate him in any way showing him such affection just felt so nice…

Thumbing the TV remote at last, Hil flicked his thumb across the button at the top. “You wanna pick something while I figure out something for dinner?” he asked gingerly.

“Like what?” N asked distractedly, still focusing more on the soft strokes of Hil’s hand over his hair. It dawned on him that what Hil had said meant he intended to get up in a moment and he frowned at that thought, but more than that, he genuinely didn’t know what to find to watch… He didn’t really tend to watch much of anything without Hil there, so he didn’t know what he would have ‘found’ for them to watch.

“There’s a new comedy or something that came out the other day. Would you wanna watch that?” Hil suggested, as if sensing his uncertainty.

“That sounds nice,” N agreed blithely. He usually still enjoyed whatever Hil picked, so he was happy with letting him do that.

With a hum that served as all the answer N needed, Hil located whatever the movie was with a few touches to the buttons on the remote, and then left it hovering over the ‘play’ button. “I’ll go make something and make sure Noodle didn’t break the kitchen,” he yawned as he slowly unraveled his arm from around N, eliciting an involuntary whine from him. N immediately scrambled to sit upright and cleared his throat.

“I mean, alright,” he flatly covered up his whine, hoping Hil wouldn’t comment on it. Not that he understood why he felt embarrassed and didn’t want Hil to comment on it…

Hil hopped up and snickered, then rubbed the top of N’s head, messing up his hair some more. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. “I swear.” Loping off into the kitchen, he heard Hil then hiss at Noodle, _Will you get off that? That rack is for pots and pans, which you definitely are not!_

Giggling to himself, N heard Noodle sulkily growl back, _Well, I_ was _playing hide and seek… and now you just gave me away._

 _And you can play it somewhere that’s not in my kitchen,_ Hil retorted without skipping a beat.

 _Don’t mess with him and his kitchen,_ N thought amusedly to himself. _Hil has a_ thing _for his kitchen…_ (Which, admittedly, was a good thing—N had discovered when Hil had tried to teach him to cook that he not only was gifted with the ability to talk to pokémon, but also with that of somehow burning water, and Hil had subsequently decided that perhaps it was best if he cooked from then on.)

Noodle slithered back out into the living room and Zoroark suddenly materialized with a flash of purple from beside the reclining chair in the corner of the room, lunging at him. They played in the floor for a moment before Noodle complained that he was tired.

For as uncomfortable as it sometimes felt to stay at that house for too long, N had to admit, over time, it became easier and easier to stay there for longer stretches of time as long as Hil was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm almost done with the Ultra Sun chapter, these two are my emotional support characters, I'm sorryy


	7. Whispers in the Dark: Our Machinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations between the Shadow Triad and Colress shortly after Ghetsis' death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Immediately after the last chapter of Black 2 (but before the epilogue)  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: So I had a few ideas that I wanted to write, but none of them really had a plot, it was more just "hey I want these characters to talk about X thing," so that's what "Whispers in the Dark" oneshots are gonna be. No real plot, just two characters rambling at each other. This particular one is a little gritty and maybe a tad existential, because it's from the perspective of Ghetsis and later, one of the Shadow Triad.  
> Characters: Ghetsis, Shadow Triad, Colress, Rosa  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

It was bitterly, bitterly cold there on the ground for that miserly man. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, and it took all of his effort to merely breathe against the frigid air that felt as if it were stabbing his lungs with every inhale. There was a terrible gurgling noise with every struggling breath, for blood sat in his mouth, and he couldn't cough strong enough to spit it out. He was dimly aware that it had likely come from his seizure, as he had bitten through part of his tongue, which that pain radiated up and down his spine more so than the general discomfort from being on the ground, but it certainly would have been easier to deal with if he were not in such a situation.

He was staring at the base of a tree, whose roots were large and thick, and curled around him. The Shadow Triad—two of them, the third was not with them for whatever reason—had dumped him there at the foot of that tree. They were nearby; he could still hear them occasionally shifting and speaking curt words to one another, but they paid him no heed. Indeed, for hours, Ghetsis laid there and stared at the knotted roots, fighting desperately to keep breathing and occasionally jolting with the intent of standing up, but finding no part of his broken body would respond to him. Not only did he have the misfortune of having been laid on his partially paralyzed right side, but it felt as if none of his muscles would move at all. His left arm was as limp as limp could be over him, and his head felt heavy and foggy.

"What is wrong with him?" he heard one of the Shadow Triad question after an untold amount of time. It was the loudest one, the one with the clear, smooth voice.

"I do not know," the other curtly replied. "The Hero of Truths did not actually hurt him. So, I do not know what is wrong with him."

 _I'm dying, you idiots,_ Ghetsis wanted to spit back at them. In that desperate moment, he would have willingly gone to any doctor in all of Unova, despite the years he had spent suspiciously avoiding them all like the plague. He had never trusted doctors for paranoid fear of what they could potentially do to him while he was under their care. Typically, he had turned to Colress whenever he was in dire need of medical attention. Although he didn't trust Colress to do particularly invasive procedures, he had done a passable job in the past… Yet, when the Shadow Triad had swooped in and teleported him out of that Arceus-forsaken cavern and away from that damned Hilbert Whitacre and his Reshiram, when they had taken him to Colress, he and his pet, Rosa, had all but screwed their noses up at him, and then Colress had ordered the Shadow Triad to "do something with him."

_Do something with him._

Not only did that thought plague him, but the frightening realization that had come minutes before he had fallen, seizing on the biting, icy floor, did, too. Hilbert and his Reshiram had been toying with Kyurem before he had been whisked away. Hil had fully intended to blow through Kyurem given enough time and kill him. Although he had fallen just short of murdering Ghetsis there, Hil had succeeded in felling Kyurem, and Ghetsis didn't need it spelled out for him to know that he had failed. Again.

All he had ever been after in life was to be on top, to never be at the mercy of another human ever again, and even when he had clawed his way to the top with a legendary pokémon, sacrificing his humanity, his family, his blood, his sanity, he had been felled by another human. He suddenly concluded that there was simply nowhere on that Earth one could have gone to escape being under the influence of someone else. No matter what, one could not control all of their surroundings or what others did. The illusion he had been chasing his entire life was just that: an illusion. He didn't even have anything to show for it. Unova had been damaged by Team Plasma's attacks, but it would heal, and in his rage, he had severely injured N. For all he knew, N had bled out on his way to a hospital, so he didn't even have a heritage to show for all he had labored over. Despite how long he and Colress had known one another, despite everything they had been through, Colress had taken one look at his dying uncle and told the Shadow Triad to simply "do something with him."

"He is dying," the smoothly-spoken Triad member mused. "That much is obvious. His vitals are significantly decreased. But why?"

"I do not know," the other responded, much the same as before. "He does not appear any more injured than before. His limbs are still partially paralyzed. Though, I thought I saw him bleeding from his mouth… Even so…"

"He is not broken like our brother was," the first interjected. "I do not…"

"Perhaps we can ask Dr. Colress later," the second cut his brother off. There was a long pause between the two of them. "What do you think Lord Ghetsis wished to accomplish with Kyurem?"

"I do not know," the first muttered in a deadpan. They sounded so coldly robotic. It made Ghetsis wish his muscles would cooperate and let him shiver… He was _freezing…_ His fingertips, lips, and toes burned with the sheer bite of the cold. "I do know that in the past he wished to be in control of Unova. Yet, I do not understand how Kyurem would have granted him this, and I believe he said that he wanted to freeze Unova solid. I do not understand how that would have granted him ownership of it. What would there be left to own?"

 _I… I don't know._ Ghetsis tried to swallow but nothing happened. _I don't know what I wanted to do after Kyurem froze Unova… I just… I just…_

"Do you think, then, that he wished to merely inflict pain?"

"That seems to be the case. He was increasingly cruel following his return, after we broke him from prison. Do you remember what he did to Anthea and Concordia just a few months after that?"

"Indeed. He let his new Hydreigon free on them in a closed off room and it mauled them before it was called off. Then, he abandoned them near Nimbasa City, along Route Four."

Ghetsis struggled to recall the event they were discussing, and that alarmed him. His mind was fading fast… But he did remember. He had been furious with the world following his first defeat, back when he was arrested, and upon his return, he had captured another Deino and raised it. With Colress' assistance, he developed a machine that would keep the pokémon under control, much in the same way he had programmed the Shadow Triad to be loyal to him. With such technology, Ghetsis had been allowed to freely train the pokémon as cruelly as he wanted, and oh, how he ensured it was cruel. Why had he done that? he wondered. At the time, he had convinced himself that such a draconic, fearsome pokémon would be more effective running off of sheer hatred, but… Well, that didn't answer the question of why he had gotten another Hydreigon to begin with, did it? He had captured another Deino and raised it due to the pain of having his previous one, the same pokémon he had had day in and out, wrenched from him. He had beaten it again and again, made it hate him, because that made it feel normal. His first Hydreigon hated him. More than that, he didn't want pokémon to like him. He didn't want any of them to give him their sympathy. He couldn't handle it. They were pawns to his plans and nothing more. He couldn't allow himself to feel their kindness.

It was the same reason he had avoided N so much during his formative years. Not only was abandoning him to the forests an excuse for him to hone his ability to speak to pokémon, but it was so that he couldn't get attached. Everyone else in the world was just a creature waiting to stab him in the back if given the appropriate tools, after all; he couldn't allow himself to grow so strongly attached to N and have moments of weakness for the sake of loving his son. Yet, for a brief moment of clarity, he wondered… Was that because that was how humans were, or was that what he had convinced himself so many years ago, after having his family and town turn their aggression on him for his ability to understand the emotions pokémon felt?

Of course, it was gone as a searing bolt of pain ran through his chest and down his left arm, making him gasp and croak for air he couldn't seem to get…

"If he intended to inflict pain with Kyurem, do you think he succeeded?"

"He did inflict pain. He hurt Lord N," the huskier-voiced of the two Shadow Triad growled. If Ghetsis wasn't too focus on his primal fight for survival against his failing body, he might have found that surprising. The Shadow Triad did not generally speak with emotional inflection.

"Yet, the pain is not permanent. I believe Lord N will be alright," his brother pointed out. "Kyurem was defeated. Unova will not be frozen."

"Then perhaps he failed," the quieter one huffed with a note of finality.

"Does that mean we failed? We were supposed to help him, were we not? What does that mean of our brother?"

"It means nothing. Why do you question something such as this?"

"I do not know."

"We do not control Lord Ghetsis. We served him to the best of our ability. Lord Ghetsis was the one who failed."

All at once, Ghetsis gave up his fight for survival, and allowed the icy pine forest's floor to siphon away his body heat, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

* * *

"He is gone," Quiet abruptly remarked, jerking his head to stare at Ghetsis' body. "I do not sense a heartbeat of any sort. A pulse."

"Then there is nothing else we can do for him, is there?" Loud asked bluntly.

"No," Quiet answered, feeling a twinge of something he wouldn't have known what to call, but it was, in fact, annoyance. Loud had a way of asking such irritating questions.

"Our brother did not have a pulse, either. Do you think there is nothing we can do for him, then?"

"Our brother and Lord Ghetsis are not the same," Quiet replied. He looked up at Loud as the other stood up and stared at Ghetsis. Although they had all privately adopted the names Lord N had given them so many years ago, they never referred to one another by them. N had asked them, back when he had first administered the titles, not to say them in the presence of others. "Dr. Colress had fixed us many times in the past from bad injuries and the like. Maybe there is more to him that can be repaired than to Lord Ghetsis."

"I just do not understand," Loud sighed at last.

"Then let us ask Dr. Colress."

With that, they teleported to the P2 Laboratory, deep within its recesses and to a large room. Upon seeing them, Rosa yelped and backpedaled, cutting her eyes to narrow daggers after them, while Colress jolted and then tilted his head at them. "Is Ghetsis gone?" Colress musingly asked without skipping a beat.

"Lord Ghetsis is dead," Loud affirmed.

Quiet looked just beyond Colress and saw that, behind a thick, wall of glass, Genesect lay inactive on its knees. The mostly-synthetic pokémon had been a private project of Colress'. He didn't know what to think as he looked at it. It was not yet alive in any capacity, yet it was there, ready to be… _made_ alive. Was that how Colress treated them and fixed them? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he did know that he and his brothers were human, but they couldn't have been human in the same capacity that Colress or even Ghetsis were. Machinery and synthetic materials laced his body as well as his brother's. Humans were made of flesh and bone, and couldn't be repaired like they could, and they felt something called 'pain,' which was a concept mostly foreign to Quiet. He could feel brief flashes of pain to alert him that something was wrong, but after that, it would ebb. Humans seemed to feel pain until whatever issue they were experiencing was resolved…

"What do they want?" Rosa huffed as she glared at them, slinking closer to Colress.

"Can you fix our brother?" Loud blurted before Quiet could say anything. "He has no pulse. But is still mostly in one piece. Can you fix him?"

Colress winced at the question, and sharply turned back to the control panel in front of him, as well as to Genesect behind the glass. "No… He's dead. There is no fixing that…" His voice was tense and wavered slightly.

"But he is different from Lord Ghetsis," Loud pressed, a little more urgently. Quiet looked down at the floor and blinked. He didn't know what he was feeling, but he didn't like the idea of them suddenly being a duo rather than a triad. So much of their effectiveness revolved around the idea of them being three strong… "Our brother is made from mechanical parts. There is flesh, yes, but he is not the same as a human. He is not the same as Ghetsis."

"I don't believe this," Rosa mumbled under her breath.

Giving them a look that was torn between shocked and apologetic, Colress shook his head at Loud, then at Quiet. "I… know that you three are partially built with mechanics and the like… but it all rides off your biological processes. You sleep to recharge certain devices in you, you eat to replenish calorie stores which teleportations use significant amounts of… And although I have a lot controlling how your brains function, they are still required for you to think, move… all of that."

"You are going to make Genesect move and think," Quiet softly interrupted as a thought passed through his mind. "Why can you not make our brother do that?"

Almost choking, Colress uncomfortably spat, "Because it would not be the same! He is _dead!_ Can't you understand that?" Shuffling his feet and clutching top of the control panel ahead of him, he hung his head, then shook it. "Of course, you don't… I knew that… I'm sorry. I should not have yelled like that."

"Are you seriously _consoling_ them?" Rosa incredulously hissed. "It's not like they sound that torn up about it… They're just asking questions because they don't understand… Arceus, they're creeping me out. Can you send them away?"

"Miss Rosa…" Colress sighed. "They still have emotion even if most of it is beyond their comprehension, and I did create them, and… I did not mean for that to happen to their brother… I will study data from his action and processes scanners to see if I can pinpoint where the error was made that allowed him to get into that position, because there should have been something in place to keep him from being injured so badly, but I am sorry that I was not able to fix it before something like that happened…"

Impatiently, Rosa nodded her head at Genesect. "So, what… what is that thing, again? What are you wanting to do with it?"

"Oh, Genesect…" Colress blinked as he looked up. He paused and then glanced over his shoulder. "You two," he said to them, "Can you… I don't mind what you do for a while. But I would like to be alone with Miss Rosa for some time. I'll call you back whenever I require you."

Turning to Loud, Quiet tilted his head and stated, "I would like to check on Lord N."

"The humans will not like us in the hospital."

"We can turn invisible."

"We can still be felt."

"We will ensure we are not felt."

"Oh, my Arceus, just _leave!"_ Rosa snapped at them at last. A shiver seemed to run up her spine, and she shook her head. "Creepy bastards…"

Paying her no mind, Quiet and Loud both went invisible, and then teleported to Lord N's signature. He was in a hospital bed, surrounded by various doctors and so forth. They patiently waited, carefully keeping out of anyone's way, and keeping from bumping into anything, cloaked in invisibility, until N was finally alone. The dimness of the room and the skies outside suggested that it was late into the night by that point.

While Loud watched from a distance, Quiet picked his way near to the hospital bed, where N was draped beneath a blue blanket. A bandage, flecked red with blood, was wrapped around his head and over his left eye, but he was alive. He very much did have a pulse and although he was asleep, he was alive. Seeing him asleep there was such an odd feeling… Quiet didn't have the words to describe it, but it reminded him of a time long ago…

When Ghetsis had first abandoned Lord N to the Giant Chasm, it had been Quiet he had sent to do it, and Quiet who had been carefully lectured on what to do if Lord N was in any sort of dangerous situation. It had been a long night of synthesizing the various parameters, but at last, he had been given the infant and teleported to the predetermined location near a Zoroark den. He also had a Darumaka in a Poké Ball, whom he was supposed to use to warm Lord N up if it became too dreadfully cold. Until the nearby family of Zoroark had taken N in, it had been Quiet's job to take care of him, and he had spent months out there, tirelessly paying him attention except for the few minutes each day he had to return to the castle for maintenance at Anthea and Concordia's hand (which, Anthea spent most of the first month in tears whenever he visited… he hadn't understood that, but he had known it was N's abandonment that had caused it, and that it was uncomfortable to look at her during her fits).

There had been many nights like this, where Quiet had holed away in a hollowed-out tree or vacant cavern with a sleepy, tired N, the Darumaka there to keep them both warm, as they slept through the night. Quiet did not understand the feelings that were drummed up by that time, but they were returning as he overlooked N in the hospital bed. Although he hadn't forgotten the need to be quiet and to stay unnoticed, he just… wanted to hear something he had recorded a long time ago… From speakers built into his throat, he replayed the short clip, much to Loud's obvious dismay in the way his brother perked up and locked his eyes on the door.

First, in the recording, there was the sound of a crying infant—Lord N. Secondly, one could hear someone—Quiet—shushing it, and then asking, "Why do you cry? Do you want the Darumaka closer? …Young humans are difficult to understand." Yet, within seconds—during which, Quiet had, indeed, pulled N's Darumaka closer to him and the pokémon had allowed the infant to cuddle it—N fell silent and as far as Quiet remembered, he had fallen asleep moments after. Lastly, in the recording, one could hear Quiet saying, "Goodnight," in a deadpan.

Loud glared at him once the recording finished. He didn't dare speak, still strictly following his own instructions to remain silent and unseen, but Quiet could tell he wanted to ask him why he had done that. Truthfully, Quiet didn't entirely know why he had done it, either.

In the hospital bed, N stirred, and Quiet, still invisible, took a seat on the foot of the bed, careful to not touch N's feet. He really did not understand the almost aching, yearning emotion in his chest as he realized this would likely be the last time he could be with N in any capacity. _Lord Ghetsis is gone now,_ he wanted to say but couldn't. _You are free of him. I think you will smile more without him. You always were happier without him around, like when you were in the forest with the pokémon, or when you would invite us in to play with you, even though we… did not understand what you wanted._ Quiet looked away from N, abruptly finding it uncomfortable and unpleasant to see him. _I do not want this to be the last time I see you. But I do not think I can see you in the future… But I believe you will be happier and safer. In that case, I think I do not mind it so much…_

Quiet sat there for quite some time. Perhaps it was even until the next morning. All he knew was that doctors had started to flood the room, and Loud convinced him that they should return to Dr. Colress and see if he needed anything done. The fateful days surrounding Ghetsis' defeat and death were over.

It was back to work after that. Part of him was afraid that he would forget Lord N and everything they had been through… But that was why he had that recording of when N was a baby. It allowed him to never forget, even when his memory of Ghetsis became dim and unclear, who Lord N was, nor that confusing, yet overall pleasant achiness in his chest that came with his memory. No matter where Dr. Colress or Rosa dragged him and his remaining brother, he remembered Lord N… and he was quite content with it that way.


	8. Bad Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another look into Rosa and Colress' life following Black 2's events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~3 years after Black 2 (and about a couple months before Ultra Sun)  
> Setting: Alola  
> Notes: It's Rosa and Colress so these tags are gonna be fun. Abusive relationship, strong language, and sexual content, oh my! See also: the oneshot that forced me to upgrade the story's rating to M lol.  
> I feel like I shouldn't have to state this anymore, but these two are so not meant to be representative of any sort of idealistic relationship, nor are they meant to be representative of anything I like in a relationship/whatever… (Also, just PSA: in general, I would prefer most that are underage not to read this, but I know it's the internet and I can't stop you. That being said, for the love of all you hold dear, please do not get relationship/love advice from a fanfic. You can enjoy/be entertained by romantic dynamics in a story, fanfiction, TV show, etc, without liking them in real life, so please just remember not to conflate the two!)  
> Anyway, now that I'm done with that, this is mostly just for me to explore what their relationship is after the events of Black 2 since they're both going to resurface (briefly) in Ultra Sun and as antagonists in World of Pasio. For those interested, Rosa is 20 in this and Colress is 46, and the entire oneshot is from Rosa's perspective. So, uh, yeah, make of all that what you will, and I completely understand those that do not want to read this! No hard feelings here haha.  
> Characters: Rosa, Colress, Shadow Triad, Dexio (briefly), Sina (briefly)  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

Rosa wondered why they hadn't considered staying in Alola long before. Well, truthfully, she knew the answer: Colress had claimed that while they had something fascinating unto themselves in the form of Z-Moves, he felt Mega Evolution or Galar's Dynamaxing phenomenon would be of more interest. Yet, that seemed more than a fair tradeoff, considering how lax the Alola region was! The locals viewed a handful of powerful pokémon as their 'guardians,' and although they would try to use social coercion to force most on their Island Challenges, Rosa and Colress didn't have to worry about that. Neither of them particularly cared what the locals thought of them and had nothing to fear from them or their 'Tapus,' all things considered. She certainly didn't fear them—having a mostly-synthetic pokémon with an incredible cannon on its back tended to make one a lot less fearful of pokémon in general.

They had comfortably taken up residence in the Tide Song Hotel in Heahea City, and Rosa had barely needed to alter her appearance to fly under the radar there. She quickly realized that news from other regions went largely ignored by most Alolans, to the point that, after a while, she quit dying her hair and just didn't bother to tell most her name rather than use a false one. Colress had, at first, remained undercover and altered his appearance heavily, but once they both realized how out of touch Alola seemed, he chanced not doing so one day and they were dumbfounded to find not a soul recognized him. At least with herself, Rosa had expected her appearance to be relatively unknown except for those that had seen Galarian or Unovan broadcasts with sketches and photos of her face, as she always had her suit on when she was actively attacking anyone or anything. Yet, Colress was an infamous face in Kanto-Johto, Hoenn, Kalos, Galar, and of course, Unova… and even so, nobody said a word about him except to comment on his peculiar appearance and the flick of blue 'hair' around his head (which Rosa had to elbow him and remind him not to be so forthcoming about its actual purpose whenever he would delightedly open his mouth to blurt an explanation).

All of that said, that made it laughably easy for Rosa to use her suit to get up to any misdeeds she so desired. She had an easy time striking various shops and the like for easy money, and she had even targeted a laboratory on Melemele Island for some of its records. The Interdimensional Research Lab, as it was called, seemed to be run by a woman named Professor Burnet, and Colress had commented that having some of their records could potentially speed up his own research into the Z-Move phenomenon, citing that it seemed there was more to Alola's eccentricities than just some colorful stones dropped by powerful pokémon. She didn't see why that couldn't be arranged, so she'd grabbed some for him.

Yet, as well as making their lives easier in the less than legal departments, staying in Alola also allowed them far more free time than either of them were accustomed to… for better or for worse, she wasn't sure. Colress seemed more than capable of occupying himself—he always had something he wanted to look further into and test—but Rosa quickly grew bored with the routine and lack of stimulation. Most might have taken up pokémon battling on the side for fun or at least have gotten some for companionship, but Rosa opted to keep no pokémon aside from her Genesect. In a way, she despised regular pokémon (that was due to her experience with knowing she had killed an innocent Stoutland in the past as well as having gotten her Emboar killed, but she would have never admitted it), wanted nothing to do with them, and she stubbornly stuck to that quirk even as her boredom grew harder to curb. And when she was idle for too long, her mind had a habit of wandering, particularly back to a couple of years prior…

Curled up in the queen-sized bed alone, with her knees tucked close to her beneath the comforter and watching the TV, she'd zone out and lose interest in whatever was playing. Eyes traveling to Colress, who spent most of his time hunched over a keyboard or blueprints of some sort in his swiveling computer chair, she would stare at him and part of her would wonder how she had gotten to this point. It almost disillusioned her to think that this was not where she had expected to be by the time she had turned twenty. A younger, more naïve, and powerless version of herself might have expected she would have gone to a university or worked her way up in the community. She always did have a tiny voice inside of her that wished she could have been famous in the way Iris or even the gym leaders were. Yet, Colress would always catch onto her expressionless staring, and flashing her that charismatic, winning grin he was so good at, he'd ask her what was wrong, and all those fledgling senses of regret would vanish in an instant. Really, she felt like she should have thanked Nate; if not for his sordid personal issues, she would have never left home that year early and likely would have never met the darkly delightful scientist that answered her every beck and call. She would just smirk and tell him nothing was wrong at all, that she was just still in disbelief at how amazing he was.

Of course, that wasn't her only way of dealing with those wandering thoughts. Sometimes, her boredom would couple up with their need for cash or some anger, and she would hatch a scheme to blow off some steam and regain that ebbing high of control she so craved. She didn't even need to cause a major scene to get the high. Sometimes, just causing a small bout of chaos was enough to tide her over, and oh, how entertaining _that_ could be!

One day, after growing bored and then annoyed with the Shadow Triad for surprising her by unexpectedly appearing beside the bed, she had huffily proclaimed she was heading 'out,' then slung her bag over her shoulders. Ungraciously waving the two Triad members out of her face and stepping rudely between them, forcing them to part for her, she paused at the door and asked Colress if he needed anything.

Giving her an unreadable look, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. But keep your shadow demons away from me, would you?"

He set his jaw at that. "They were trying to ask if you needed them to do anything."

"And for all I know, they stood there, invisible, and stared at me for two hours first!" Frustratedly stamping a foot, she growled, "I just don't _like_ them, Colress."

Mumbling something under his breath, he turned back to his work. She raised her brow at him when she caught onto his mutters. "You sure seem to like them fine when the stakes are high, Miss Rosa… They can't just stop _existing_ until they're needed…"

"Know what? You can stay here and play patty-cake with them for all I care." With that, she had stepped out of the room and confidently strode out of the hotel. She could have been going for a stroll or going to commit a felony, she had no idea; she'd figure it out on the way there. Then again—she almost laughed to herself—felonies didn't exactly exist in Alola, now, did they?

At the front of the hotel, however, she ran across an intriguing sight. Or rather, she heard them before she saw them—two people, a man and a woman, speaking in a distinctly Kalosian accent. Curiously glancing to them, he saw that they were seated at a bench, a pale, tan-haired man animatedly pointing out something in a magazine to his darker-skinned, female colleague. "See that, Sina? I'm going to beat that kimono guy's surfing score, just you watch!" Adjusting his blue-lensed sunglasses, the man glanced up at Rosa when he noticed her staring.

Sina snorted and Rosa could practically see her rolling her eyes despite her own sunglasses. "Right, keep telling yourself that, Dexio. I'll watch you wipeout as much as you like once we're done with what we're _actually_ here to do." Tracing his line of sight, she locked her gaze to Rosa once she spotted her. "Oh. Hello, there, miss…"

Without any prompting from Rosa and certainly none from Sina, Dexio hopped up off the bench and dramatically struck out his hand, a brilliant smile forming beneath those sunglasses. "Bonjour, miss! Did you need to speak with us?"

"Mm, not particularly," Rosa answered somewhat breathily, already enjoying Dexio's attentiveness and the way Sina sourly glowered at her beneath her sunglasses. "Was just wondering what a couple of fine Kalosians would be doing out here. I'll admit, I haven't seen many foreigners here at all. You'd think with all the wonderful weather and touristy shops booming everywhere…"

Practically puffing out his chest, Dexio cockily started, "Well, Sina and I are researchers ourselves, you see! And I know, right? This place is awesome for a vacation! And we get to _work_ here!"

"Hi, yes, I'm Sina," Sina pointedly cut in, still entirely focused on Rosa, "his girlfriend."

"Oh, Sina!" Dexio flushed red slightly and shot her a look. "We're just having a chat, why must you go and assume something so callous?"

"I know the look," Sina defiantly retorted, raising her chin. A smirk betrayed her own amusement when Dexio snickered at her comment.

Unable to help her lips pulling into a cheeky grin, Rosa sidestepped Dexio and tilted her head at Sina. _Oh, she's fun,_ Rosa thought. _Let's see how far I can push it._ "Mm, I'm not sure why _you're_ the one jealous," she taunted. Dropping her voice an octave and getting perhaps a little uncomfortably close to Sina, Rosa teased, just barely keeping from bursting into laughter at her own unspoken joke, "I'm thinking _he's_ the one that should be jealous…~" Winking at her, Rosa whirled away before she could catch Sina's shocked and flustered reaction, sauntering off and twirling one of her long, brown locks of hair in her right hand. She started to giggle when she heard Dexio incredulously call after her.

"H-hey, wait! What did you mean by _that?!"_

"Dexio!" Rosa heard Sina hiss, her voice shaky and flustered. "What the hell are you trying to call her _back_ for?"

She couldn't help but give an ugly, entertained snort at the borderline needy whimper she heard Dexio respond to Sina with. Some men could be so _easy,_ and she loved pushing the boundaries with her flirtatiousness. Still feeling quite proud of herself, she spent the rest of that day causing minor chaos such as that. As the day drew on, she realized she didn't feel like suiting up and maintaining the awareness she had to in order to go uncaptured or undamaged, so she just relaxed at the beach and taunted a few other boys in much the same way she did with Dexio. Queen of Diamonds-level chaos could wait. She returned to the Tide Song Hotel once it started to get dark, though. Even in a city like Heahea, Alola's nightlife was downright boring.

When she arrived back in their room, Colress was not at his elongated desk, nor working on anything at all. He was seated on the bed, one leg hanging off and touching the floor, the other folded against him, and he had an arm draped across his knee. A panel in his jacket lay open and he was typing away on the built-in tablet. Tentatively, she tossed her bag to the side of the room and gently shut the door behind her. Approaching the bed wordlessly, she half-expected that to be the end of the tension between them that day, but she was quickly proven wrong when one of the Shadow Triad appeared before her. He blocked her path to the bed and had that same vacant, unaware stare she had seen on them when Colress had first introduced her to them all that time ago. Back when they were still fascinating and new, rather than disturbing and paranoia-inducing. Unimpressed, Rosa scowled at the Triad member, recognizing him as the less cognizant of the two remaining brothers. Not that that was particularly insulting. They both had the emotional intelligence of a sack of rocks.

"What was that down there?" Colress asked at last.

"What was what? Be more specific," Rosa shot back, already annoyed by his tone and the way he had this Triad member staring her down as if he were going to do anything to her. Honestly, the fact he seemed to think he had any semblance of control over her was obnoxious. He was not her father and she was not going to treat him like he was, and she certainly wasn't going to let him _chide_ her like it, either. Anger mounted as she realized that he wasn't with her 'down there,' and so the only way he would have known what she was up to was by sending the Triad after her. Glaring at the one in front of her, she growled, "Get out of my way. _Now."_

He didn't budge and Colress raised his voice. "You know _what,_ Miss Rosa. You're intelligent enough to have figured out how I would know, so you already _know_ what." He slammed the flap shut on his sleeve and rested his chin atop his arm, cutting his golden eyes at her. A flash of electricity ran down the sensor circling his head. "Honestly, I hate it when you play these stupid games with me, patronizing me."

"You _hate_ it, do you?" Rosa jeered, sidestepping the Triad member and stalking around the foot of the bed instead. His demeaning tone only served to fire her up more. "How can you hate it? That would mean you have to _feel_ things!" she spat sarcastically. "And I know how much you _hate_ acknowledging that… Oh, wait… That would be a _feeling,_ too, wouldn't it?"

He groaned in frustration and jumped up from the bed, making no move toward her yet, but his knees bent slightly in a way that told her he would descend on her in a second if she said anything too pressing. That detail infuriated her more. If he thought physical intimidation would work, he should have thought again. She only raised her chin at him as he curled his lips and snarled, "I don't understand why you mock me that way, you were the one who told me that I had to—"

"What's there to understand, Colress?" Rosa cut him off, her anger starting to give way to impatience. She knew how these confrontations always ended, so honestly, the fighting was all just a formality at this point. Yet, somewhere beneath the monotony of it, there was a twinge of fear in Rosa's chest. Although she and Colress were no stranger to fights, it was not _that_ often that they resorted to such bladed words, and the repeated arcs of electricity over his sensor warned her that he was dangerously upset. As much as she had enjoyed opening the floodgates of his heart in the past and teaching him there was nothing to understand regarding human emotion, that he was _allowed_ to feel, she also had to remember to respect it. Deep down in her heart, she still knew that Colress was the same, dangerous man she had met on the Plasma Frigate those years ago—and now, she had only her wits to defend herself from his outbursts. He didn't understand his emotions and so, he didn't understand how to communicate them properly, and _that_ was what made confrontations like these oh-so dangerous—but also… oh-so _thrilling._

He closed his mouth with an audible click of the teeth and if looks could have killed, she was sure he'd have struck her down right then. "What if I just go 'out' for a little while?" he taunted her, taking a decisive, intimidating step forward. "What about that, Miss Rosa?"

Mirroring his movement so that she found herself pressed against him (but looking up, due to how much taller he was than her), she just as nastily snapped back, "What about it? Because you won't do it." She couldn't believe him, daring to threaten her like that, to threaten to meet another woman! Just who did he think he was? She had saved him from Ghetsis, and she had given him the freedom he currently enjoyed; she wasn't about to let him forget _that!_ Seeing a flash of red and curling her lip, she added with a cruel smirk (and without thinking), "And even if you did, who would want _you,_ hmm?"

She knew that was pushing a boundary the second he momentarily recoiled, staggering as if she might have hit him with a physical blow instead. Freezing slightly as she realized her mistake, Rosa braced herself for what was coming next. She was vaguely aware of the Shadow Triad member vanishing from view, excusing himself from what was about to happen, as Colress latched his hands onto her shoulders and marched her toward the wall behind her. Despite the tingle of fear that ran down her spine, she grinned up at him, relaxing in his hold, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing of it. "Who would want me?" he echoed, voice shaking, practically baring his teeth at her. Suddenly grasping her shoulders more firmly, he pulled her forward and then slammed her back against the wall again. She managed to grab hold of his forearms and hold her head steady so that it didn't hurt that badly, but it certainly knocked the wind out of her and she momentarily saw double. Blinking returned her vision to normal. "What is that supposed to mean, _Miss Rosa?"_

Forcing herself to her tiptoes, she abruptly raised herself up and planted a kiss firmly on his lips, moving her hands so that she held his face in her palms. Digging her nails in to keep him from pulling away, she winced slightly as he moved his to her neck and shoved hard, trying to slam her against the wall again, but it seemed her affection worked its magic, for the strength faded from his grip and it ended up being more of a weak, playful shove than anything. Smiling to herself and still not breaking the kiss, she pressed her entire body forward some more, hooking a leg around one of his, forcing him to stagger forward and banishing whatever space had been left between them up to that point. When she finally gave up the kiss, they were both panting for breath, and she felt relief flood through her veins. Unnoticed by Colress, she was shivering in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush that had come with his physicality, with the fear that she had nearly pushed him too far.

Gently stroking the side of his face, he leaned into the touch and sighed, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry," she apologized in a voice hardly above a whisper, then kissed him again, shorter this time but somehow even needier. _I don't want you to go. I don't want you to go anywhere, and I don't want you to be angry at me,_ she thought desperately, squeezing her eyes shut as she aggressively pressed her hips forward to meet his, suddenly desperate for this confrontation to be over. It wasn't fun anymore and she missed having him pleasantly under her thumb, when his 'Miss Rosa' nickname didn't sound like a bullet firing from the muzzle of his tongue, and she the target.

He broke the kiss this time, gasping for breath at her ministrations, lazily looking down at her with half-lidded, golden eyes. He looked as if he wanted to ask something, and Rosa thought she fleetingly saw his eyes water in a pained way, but he blinked it away and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug that threatened to hinder her breathing, an almost disturbingly loving, _needy_ embrace.

Taking advantage of his speechlessness, Rosa gently pushed him back after giving him a few seconds to enjoy holding her like that. He gave her a brief look of confusion when she pushed him away, then his expression lit up knowingly when she snatched the lapels of his jacket, balling her hands into fists with them in her grasp. Feeling a thrilling rush of power, the wonderful high she loved so much whenever she successfully got him to submit to her, Rosa grinned and started to push him back toward the bed, just like he had walked her back against the wall. He didn't resist her at all, obediently stepping back until he was forced to sit, then lie back on the mattress. Rosa could only smirk at him as he snatched a pillow from near the bed's headboard to tuck beneath his head, and in an all-too practiced way, she sensually climbed astride him, straddling his lap and kissing along his jaw.

Just like that, everything was okay again. The slight bruises on her shoulders would fade, the deeply wounding insinuation that he was less than human, all too reminiscent of Ghetsis himself, would be forgotten by him, and all would be back to normal within the hour. After all, this was what they enjoyed, wasn't it? Swaying her hips to pleasantly rub herself against his growing excitement, Rosa's movements became more frantic, kissing him sloppily on his lips and running a hand down his left arm, which was made difficult by the fact he had started to expectantly slip his hands beneath her shirt, trying to work it off of her. Indeed, he loved her because he found her fascinating, a fascinating subject, and she lavished being that for him. He was this enigmatic, dangerous sociopath, and yet, she could reign him in and make him melt, and as long as she didn't let her tongue fly so dangerously as she had that day, he would do whatever she asked at the drop of a hat. A constant, _thrilling_ push and pull of the tides.

 _Of course,_ she thought as she let her arms go slack and allowed him to finally dispose of her shirt and bra, _where's the fun in that?_ As temporarily terrifying as it had been to have him so furious with her, the act of calming him down and bringing him back into her fold was so _exhilarating…~_ She hadn't ever tried any sort of drug (mostly at Colress' insistence, including data charts and all, that they were unhealthy and outright dangerous in some circumstances), but if she had to imagine what a high felt like, it would have been something like this. She wiggled her way out of her pants and then helped Colress do the same, and she just couldn't stop _smiling._

No matter what hand Colress played, Rosa was always the victor, and she almost wondered if he enjoyed placing bad bets and losing to her, enjoyed those toxic fights, as much as she did. Oh, it was sick and it was wrong, how such (physically and mentally) violent altercations would get them both charged up and more desperate than ever to prove to the other their loyalty and affection, Rosa was not blind to that at all, but the glorious rush that came with the conclusion of each and every one of them… There was just _nothing_ like it. No amount of robberies, muggings, even killings, or any various other nefarious activities she had committed under his influence did this to her.

They were an endless yo-yo game of twistedness, a true Bonnie and Clyde, together by necessity—after all, neither of them could hope to survive on their own, no matter how much Rosa loved to tell herself she could—but bound by the enrapturing, bad romance they had crafted. That horrible chemistry _was_ Rosa's drug.

Sinking down onto him at last and biting her lower lip as he groaned lewdly below her, she zoned in on that last thought. Oh, yes, this was oh-so bad, but it was _theirs._ It didn't make sense to anyone else, but who cared about that? She certainly didn't, and the pleasure climbing her back and delight flowing through her veins like the perfect injection of a designer drug made her feel as if she were insane for having ever questioned it. A wave of possessiveness ran through her and as she started to rock her hips against him, she reached her left hand out and snatched Colress' blond hair in a fistful, grinning down at him and lavishing the way he stared at her in a way that suggested he was only half-paying attention to her at all. "You wouldn't want to go o-out…" she panted, "aft-after all of this… would you, D-Dr. Colress…~?"

"Wouldn't… wouldn't dream of it," he practically mewled, throwing his head back against her hold on his hair. "I don't… know what came over me, hah…"

 _Good answer._ She let go of him and gingerly ran her fingers through his hair, speeding up her thrusting as she leaned down to kiss him.

_Good, good answer, Dr. Colress…~_


	9. Need You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church might have been happy for Hil in the end, but that doesn't mean learning to accept Hil as the one that got away was easy or simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: During the months following the end of Black 2.  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Pining/unrequited love, addictions/alcoholism (…when did Church become my addictions character? I have no idea!), platonic fluff (…sort of?)  
> Characters: Churchill (Church), Hilbert (Hil)  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

Although he was no stranger to suits and tuxedos, Church felt as if the dark, formal attire he was in at that moment were strangling him. He was tucked away in the farthest reaches of the vast room, and he still felt as if he were too exposed. Stage fright wasn't like him; it wasn't a good look on him, either, he mutinously thought as he realized how pathetic he must have looked. It was Cheren and Bianca's wedding, for Arceus' sake, and he was hiding like a beaten Lillipup… Part of that was because of how some guests recognized him and swarmed him in that fanatical way they always did, but he was used to that. Him shying away wasn't normal.

No, the real reason was that Hil was there, with N, and just being in the same room as either of them could feel _suffocating._ To add insult to injury, Grimsley had just left the Pokémon League a month before, and not long after that, had skipped out on the region altogether. He had gone to a quaint, relatively unknown region called Alola. His departure had made Church realize just how laughably alone he was. His constant work, divided between the Pokémon League and Pokéstar Studios, not to mention all the time he had spent with Hil prior to his instatement as Consul, meant he had no friends outside of it all, or whatever friendships he had started to build outside of them had long-since rotted away into obscurity due to his own inadvertent neglect. He and his father hardly spoke anymore. It wasn’t out of disdain or hatred, but rather just… out of not having anything in common. Their conversations were full of Church’s father showering him in pride and that somehow had a way of making Church feel worse.

Maybe seeing Hil again shouldn't have been so painful. He fiddled with the collar of the suit and set his jaw. No, it shouldn't have been. He was still happy for Hil; he could see how thrilled his old friend was with N whenever he saw them together, and he knew that he and Hil had never quite operated on the same wavelength like they seemed to. Yet, he also knew that he was happy for Hil because he loved him, and he wanted him to feel happiness… which, in turn, just made Church feel sharp pangs of yearning whenever he'd catch sight of Hil anywhere, selfish little qualms that made him want to stomp his feet like a toddler and demand to know why Hil couldn't feel that with him rather than N. He kept those feelings hidden, thank Arceus, but they were still there. The kicker was that, despite his best attempts to keep a cap on such feelings, Hil seemed to have noticed anyway. After Grimsley's departure, Church had become keenly aware of how Hil avoided him. He'd awkwardly squirm out of any conversation Church initiated and whenever he accidentally glanced Church's way, he'd swallow anxiously and look away, with an expression that made Church feel more like the wounded animal he felt he was.

Earlier, as soon as Church had arrived at the wedding reception in Clay's private estate (he had apparently offered it to Cheren to use for free as soon as he'd heard the news about him and Bianca), he had run into Hil and the two had shared a mortifyingly awkward exchange. N had stood at Hil's side, and Hil had squeezed the other's hand, a forced smile painted on his face as he regarded Church. "Ah, Church, nice to see you here," he had mused. "How's, um… You like the... uh…"

"Nice to see you, too," Church had cut him off, desperately wanting the embarrassing scene to be over. When Hil had looked down at his feet, clearly having nothing else to say, N had curiously cocked his head at Church… who hadn't been able to meet his gray eyes. That was another thing, too—N was just so pleasant and Church didn't believe he had a bad bone in his body. He could be rude without intending to, due to a lack of understanding social cues, but otherwise? N was great. He had fantastic ideas, he could talk to pokémon, he didn't look bad, either—and he and Hil worked so well together. Looking at him just made Church think about how he had done nothing wrong, Hil was just happier with N by default. Maybe he shouldn't have thought about it like that, but the self-destructive thought refused to leave.

Regardless, that disastrous half-conversation had been what had led to Church sneaking away to the furthest corners of the room. Part of him had hoped that maybe Hil would seek him out, and maybe they'd talk through the sea of uncertainty that had filled in the space between them since they had broken up, so that they could at least just carry a conversation like friends, but of course, that never happened. Beyond the hurt at having let Hil go, Church was devastated by the weirdness between them now. He still wanted Hil as a friend at least, but how could that happen given how they failed to speak at all half the time?

The reception dragged on and on and the only people that came to see him were the few guests that didn't get to regularly see him like most of the League Staff did. When he finished talking and sending them all away, however, he was left perfectly alone. Honestly, he spent the last hour or so mostly on his Xtransceiver, wordlessly playing an idle puzzle game. At least it did the job it was meant to do as a time waster…

Church didn't catch most of the reception, to be honest, and once it was over, he was among one of the first to leave. He doubted Cheren would notice, given the happy day he was experiencing, and more bitterly, he thought that nobody else would certainly care. With the help of his Volcarona, he was back at the Pokémon League within two hours, and retreated to Grimsley's old quarters right away. They were his now, but they weren't decorated with much yet, and Grimsley had left behind plenty of furniture and knickknacks. Church still had a place in Virbank, after all, and he hadn't decided if he wanted to properly move into the League yet or not. Figuring that out along with his acting work was a whole other can of Venipede he still needed to sort out… Yet, it felt too overwhelming to think about, so he picked his way to the quarter's master bedroom and flopped down on the unmade bed, on his stomach. He was vaguely aware when a Poké Ball opened of its own accord from his belt and didn't even need to see to know who it was. "Go away, Victini," he huffed moodily right away.

With a little chuff that somehow sounded scolding, Victini moved so that he was in front of him on the bed, and when Church looked up at him grumpily, he saw that his tiny arms were crossed over his chest. "What?" Church asked, frustrated. Seeing Victini right then was not helpful. _Lucky. Yep, that's me,_ Church thought sarcastically.

Victini shook his head at him, but moved from the bed, hovering in midair. Ignoring Victini altogether after that, Church got up and changed into something that vaguely resembled pajamas, brushed his teeth, and then curled back up into the bed. He'd make it up to his other pokémon for failing to let them out for the evening the next day. He didn't have the energy right then.

Staring at the yellow scarf hanging on the back of the bedroom door—Grimsley had left it behind—Church gave a long, laborious sigh. He felt so overwhelmed… and while everyone happily came to him whenever something was wrong, Church was acutely aware of how he didn't think he could do the same with any of the others. _Story of my life,_ he almost chuckled sadly to himself. Then again, it wasn't like he ever tried, was it? So, he couldn't reasonably be upset with them… but if he did break and show them the wounds underneath the grand Churchill façade, would they still view him the same, or would they all look at him in that pitying way Hil did?

He hated this new contest, the quiet competition between him and Hil, of acting like who could care less, and his mind refused to calm down. After only Arceus knew how long of laying there and waiting for exhaustion to take him, Church stumbled back out of bed and decided to rifle through the kitchen to find anything that he could mindlessly munch while watching something stupid on TV until he was too tired to think anymore. He had stowed away some food and such there for the time being, as he knew he'd be staying there some nights at least. Settling on a bag of popcorn, he went to open the fridge for a can of soda but accidentally pulled the freezer side open. He recoiled at the sight of a few liquor bottles that he had yet to throw out. He had forced Grimsley to leave them with him once he moved out, but he hadn't actually tossed them away yet. He stood there and stared at them for a long, long moment, before slowly flicking the freezer side of the refrigerator shut with a flick of his wrist. He felt an unpleasant curiosity bubbling in his chest, one that made him fleetingly wonder just what could make the bottle so addictive during hardships, but he banished it immediately by wrenching open the proper refrigerator side of the fridge, retrieving a soda can.

With that, he marched into the living area of the chambers, flopping onto a couch, and snatched the TV remote. He left the can of soda unopened on the coffee table in front of him and although he was watching the TV, his mind was elsewhere. After a few minutes, Victini reappeared, settling onto the back of the couch near him.

Church couldn't bring himself to look at him. _Lucky,_ he thought with a vehement wave of disgust. _That's me. Lucky Churchill fucking Pines._

* * *

"Churchill, you're up! Hey, wake up, man!"

Jerking awake, Church nearly fell out the chair he had been relaxing in as he awaited his scene. The director waved a hand at him in front of his face. "You alive in there?" he joked, adjusting shiny glasses over his thin, long face.

"No," Church answered blithely, not entirely understanding the question, which earned him a laugh from the other. He felt like he'd been run over and then subsequently backed over a few times with a truck, and his mind felt as if it were trudging through several layers of sludge to think. Hell, everything didn't even look that clear; the studio room seemed unusually bright and loud (though he couldn't pick out any particular source of light or sound), and on top of it all, he had a pounding headache. "I mean, what?" he corrected himself after the director's chuckle.

"You okay?" the director asked with a slight, amused frown. A Scraggy hobbled up beside him at that point and cocked its head at Church.

"Hi, Scrags," Church greeted the pokémon with a lazy wave and half-smile. He liked Scrags. He was the director's pokémon… What was the director's name again…?

"Church!" the director snapped fingers in his face then. "Church! Ha, you are out of it. The hell did you get _into_ last night?"

"What?" Church felt a pang of panic as he jerked his head to stare at the director. Jun, that was his name. Feeling a sense of indignation, Church shook his head violently, to the point he felt dizzy and it exacerbated the headache. No, he hadn't done a thing last night. Nothing at all. He was fine. Everything was fine. It was all good. What the hell did Jun want? He was _fine._ "I didn't… get int' anythin' last night…"

"Do you even know where you are?" Jun asked him pointedly, shoving his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. They had started to slide down due to a slight sheen of sweat building over his forehead.

Huh… it was really hot in that studio room, wasn't it? Without thinking, Church pulled the collar of his polo shirt away from his neck and undid a few of the buttons. Man, it _was_ hot! "Pok'star Studios," he answered Jun's question dubiously. "Where else?"

"Wise ass," Jun muttered, rolling his eyes. Dropping his voice to something of a husky whisper, he leaned down and hissed in Church's ear, "You're hungover, Church. Hell, I think you're still kind of drunk, really. You're _eighteen,_ what the hell are you doing drinking?"

"I am not," Church defended himself vehemently, feeling a lump of emotion rise in his throat. Or maybe it was bile… Either way, he refused to acknowledge what Jun was getting at, grimacing against the discomfort in his throat. He didn't _do_ that sort of thing. He wasn't Grimsley, he wasn't his mother, he was Church, and he was _fine_ —that was how he always was. He didn't need or want Jun's or anyone else's help. "'m fine, Jun…"

"…My name's Harper," the director deadpanned, and Church wrinkled his nose. _Harper? Oh… Right… Jun was the director on the last… last month… Right…_ Standing back to his full height, Harper crossed his arms and shook his head. "No. C'mon, get out. We'll film your parts tomorrow, or something…" He cursed under his breath and then muttered, "I still really want you in this, but don't go off the rails like this on me, Churchill." With that he turned around and started to march away. "Arceus on a bike… Thought I got away from all the crazies with the last project…"

Left feeling upset and confused, thanks to his muddled mind, Church just leaned forward and clasped his hands over his face. He managed to summon what remained of his brainpower to think to call someone, anyone, to talk to and talk through the chaotic night he had endured. Unfortunately, his murky mind decided that Hil would somehow be the best person to call on the Xtransceiver. It rang a few times before Hil picked up and Church failed to realize he had the camera on his end directed so that it caught mostly just his hair and the palm he had pressed over his forehead.

"H-hi, Church—uh, Church…?" Church couldn't see what Hil was doing. He had momentarily forgotten that Xtransceivers defaulted to having video feeds on. "Er, hey… What's up…? I don't have long, I'm, uh, about to go to a meeting…"

"No, you're not," Church bluntly called him out. The squirrely, anxious tinge to his tone made it clear that he just wanted off the phone. In his inhibited state of mind, he shook his head and simply said that. "You jus' want off the phone."

"…Church, where are you? What's going on?"

"Pok'star Studios." _Where else would I be?_

"Okay… Uh… I'm… Look, you're freaking me out, I'm sorry, but y-you are. What's going on? Why won't you look up at the camera?"

He was talking too fast. "Huh?" Church mumbled, sweeping his hair out of his face and looking up at the screen at last. Hil looked like he was in a forest somewhere, and likely somewhere near the evergreen forests of the Giant Chasm given the way his breath produced puffs of mist with every exhale, but Church's eyes were fixed to another detail. Hil was in a plush, black hoodie, which was marred and marked on the front. Cursing under his breath, Church looked away again. "I don't know," Church finally answered him. "I don't know. I'm sorry for calling."

"What? Church, w—"

Church hung up before he had the chance to say anything else. He was vaguely aware of the device ringing again as he stuffed it into a pocket and shakily got to his feet, herded out of the studio by Harper after a moment of standing there dazedly. Once outside of the building, Church seemed to remember where he was more accurately, or perhaps it was by muscle memory that he retraced his steps back home so easily. Though he would have normally tossed his Arcanine free to walk with him, it completely slipped his mind until he got back to his place, where he simply threw all of his Premier Balls at the floor and let them clatter and release his partners. He uncharacteristically left the Premier Balls on the floor, said nothing to the pokémon, and made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom. He was just _tired._

* * *

Of course, he had no idea how long he'd been asleep when he heard a furious knock at the door, but it was loud enough to wake him even from upstairs. Not to mention, Arcanine started barking his head off at the sound, so Church scrambled out of the bed and hurried down the stairs. He was feeling less muddled at that point, but was still half-asleep, and so, when he opened the door and Hil darted inside, he couldn't find the words to say anything. He could tell right away something was very wrong given how Hil didn't have Noodle at his side and was breathing heavily, as if he had rushed to get there.

Church went to open his mouth to say something, but Hil cut him off by animatedly pulling his bag around so he could retrieve something from it. Church paled at the sight of the liquor bottle, which still had a good amount left in it, but not enough to hope to pass for being unopened. Hil waved it at him. "What the hell, Church?!" he spat, voice strained with frustration and… hurt? His brown eyes were stretched wide almost fearfully.

"Hil, I…"

"You call me while I'm out helping Bianca by collecting something for her, scare the hell out of me, and then refuse to answer any calls? Then, I get worried, so I call the studio, can't get anyone on the phone, so I go looking around Grimsley's old chambers to see if there's anything there, and you know what I find? This!" Hil shook the bottle again. "I found that chilling on the living room table, the TV still on, and a half-eaten thing of popcorn! After you called me sounding like you were in trouble!"

Shrinking away from him, Church felt his back touch the wall and he almost wished he could have melted into it and away, out of this situation. This was so not how any of this was supposed to go… He hadn't meant to! It had been one night, he had felt awful, it… To its credit, it did eventually help get him to sleep, even if he felt awful and confused that morning… "Hil… I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking right earlier, I was—"

"Weren't thinking right earlier?!" Hil cut him off fiercely, topping it off with a scoff. Looking the bottle in his hand up and down, he sarcastically growled, "Boy, I'll say! I watched you shout at Grimsley so much about this! And then you go and get wasted on his stash? What the actual hell, Church?!"

Feeling a bolt of defensiveness, Church clenched his jaw. "Nice to know that it takes that happening for you to bother talking to me," he sniped, looking squarely at his shoes.

"I—…what?" That seemed to throw Hil for a loop. His shoulders slacked and he blinked rapidly. "What are you talking about?"

 _Incredible. He ignores me and he has no idea he's even been doing it. Does he not even realize that he looks at me like I'm a beaten Lillipup all the time? Is it just that ingrained?_ "What am I talking about?" Church repeated incredulously, then shook his head. Abruptly slapping the wall behind him in his frustration, though still not looking up at Hil, Church snapped, "I'm talking about how you avoid me like the damn plague! You look at me like I'm an ugly piece of furniture at the League instead of a part of it! You don't want anything to do with me!"

"Church, you're not being—"

"I know you like N! I'm not stupid! I don't care!" Church cut him off, bursting with all of those bottled away emotions. "I don't care that you like him over me, really, I mean, it hurts, sure, but I just wish you'd still _talk_ to me! I thought that even if you did find someone else you liked better, you'd still be my _friend,_ at least! But now you're acting like I'm not even there!"

Frustrated, Hil pointed at him with the bottle. "How am I supposed to acknowledge the fact that oh, yeah, I ripped your heart out when just having a casual conversation, Church? You know how you said you couldn't take the guilt of being with me, thinking you were keeping me from saving Unova, or whatever? Well, when I hang out with you, I feel like I'm… I'm… _stopping_ you from enjoying yourself! Hell, all of this is happening the day after a _wedding,_ so… Yeah, I can't help but feel like because I'm the guy who—"

"The guy who I loved, yes, I know," Church bristled. Desperately shaking his head and waving his hands, he almost whined, "But Hil, that's not yours to decide!"

Hil just stood with his mouth agape. "I don't… I don't understand what you mean."

"What I can or can't handle? That's not yours to decide!" Church exclaimed. "I'm an adult now! I can take it! You acting like our history is some big deal is what's _making_ it such a big deal! But every time you look at me and pause before you walk on, or you awkwardly can't think of anything to say in conversation… or worse, you just pretend I'm not there at all…" Church covered his face and thought back to the awful, previous night, where sleep refused to come. "I've never heard silence so _loud_ before…"

Hil couldn't seem to think of anything to even say. He opened and shut his mouth a few times before decidedly remaining quiet, taking a step back.

"It's really hard to move on and not act like a broken shell of a person when everyone else treats me like one," Church mumbled at last, feeling exhausted. And nauseous… His stomach hurt. He dropped his hands from his face and they hung at his sides as if he barely had the energy to stand.

"Then why couldn't you just say any of that?" Hil quietly asked at last. He surveyed the bottle in his grasp again. "Why is this how I had to find out?"

"I don't know. My mother loved it so much, more than me and my dad… I really cared for Grimsley and he loved it. I spent so long hating it so much, but so many others loved it, maybe I was the idiot who didn't know what I was missing," Church cagily muttered. "I know, I know… It was stupid."

"It was," Hil callously huffed. At Church's surprised stare, Hil shook his head. "No. I'm not acting nice on that, Church. You treated Grimsley the same way, and you wanna know something else I found out about my dear old dad?"

"…Vince? What…?"

"He was so drunk when he committed suicide it's shocking that he actually hit his target with that gun," Hil coldly growled. "I know, I know, the alcohol wasn't the only reason, I'll never know the real reason, blah blah blah, but it definitely couldn't have _helped!_ So, come with me, I'm getting rid of this. I already got rid of the rest I could find in Grimsley's old chambers."

As Hil wagged the bottle at Church and walked away, Church followed him, slinking after him ashamedly. He didn't know what to say to that… There was silence as they entered the kitchen and Hil stood over the sink, opening the bottle, and pouring the strong-scented fluid down the drain. Just the steady _chug-chug_ of the liquid leaving its glass prison. Once it was nearly empty, Hil fought against emotions strangling his voice to say, "I never stopped caring for you, Church. I just… when we broke up… you said… you said you'd 'wait' for me. And that's been tripping me up. Because… all I can think is… you might be waiting a really long time."

Church shuffled uncomfortably and clasped his hands behind his back, unable to meet Hil's eyes again. He heard movement and then the clank of glass, signifying Hil throwing the bottle out.

"I don't want you to wait for me, Church. If you can promise me that's not what's gonna happen, then maybe I can start acting normal again. I'm… I'm sorry I made you feel that way, though," Hil murmured. "I never meant to make you feel like you were… you weren't a person, that you were just this broken… thing… I'm so, _so_ sorry… I just can't ever get over how I feel like I just keep hurting you every time we're together…"

"And yet, every time before we talked through it… This time it seemed like you didn't want to even try, and that I was going to lose you for good," Church whispered, fending off tears. "But… You are right in that I can't… I _shouldn't,"_ Church corrected himself with a tiny, sad chuckle, "wait for you… That is unfair to you, isn't it? To put all that pressure on you…"

There was another tense pause, and then Hil abruptly hugged Church, patting him on the back. "It'll be alright, Church," Hil insisted reassuringly, "I promise. Just… talk to us. Okay? Talk to us if anything is ever bothering you, especially if it ever gets to be that bad ever again. Even if me or N are busy, Nathan's got a lot more free time than either of us. He might be a bit of a dick sometimes, but he means well, and he's not all touchy-feely like I am, so I'm sure he could think of something fun for you to do to take your mind off everything that isn't… you know…"

Uncertainly hugging him back, Church found it hard to resist not just going limp in his hold. He really did feel like he'd been hit by a truck, except this time, the incredible relief he felt was part of it. He smiled and those stupid tears started to trickle down his face, especially as he realized Hil was still in that dark hoodie. What was it with Hil and his ability to reduce him to nothing like that? "Okay… Thank you, Hil… I'm sorry, again…"

Stepping away, Hil tilted his head, looking more like the easygoing old friend he used to know. "Now, c'mon. N's outside." He slyly pulled a familiar, glowing, perfect sphere from the pocket of the jacket and grinned. "Wanna take a ride with us back to the League and I drop you off with Nathan? He's taking a day off and Hugh's there. I'm sure they're raising all kinds of hell you could get into with them."

Rubbing his face in a bid to stop his overemotional reaction, Church laughed hoarsely. "Sure, sounds good to me… Ah, N… N knows there's nothing going on between me and you, right…?"

As if knowing what Church was really asking, Hil nodded. "Don't worry. He's not jealous. Though, uh…" He rubbed the back of his head and smiled nervously. "N's still… got a lot to learn about it all. I haven't wanted to directly ask for him to be my, uh, boyfriend yet because I don't know if he even fully knows what that… means… but I do think, given enough time… yeah."

Snorting in amusement, Church rubbed his wet face again. "You say that like all of us can't see that from a mile away."

Feigning hurt, Hil pouted. "Do you want a ride or nah?"

"'Course I do," Church chuckled. "Let me get the pokémon… who are all upstairs…?" Church frowned as he realized they had scattered, likely due to his and Hil's fighting. He felt a little bad about that… "Maybe I should tell them it'll be okay…"

"Maybe N could explain?" Hil offered encouragingly.

Church pondered that for a moment, and then nodded slowly. A slight smile pulled at his lips and he gave a shuddery, resigned sigh. "Yeah, that'd be good." _Me wanting not to like him certainly isn't going to help anything, and N is genuinely a good guy… Two-way street, Church, if Hil's gonna put in the effort, so do you._

At those words, Hil practically beamed, as if overjoyed Church was willing to interact with N. "Great! I'll uh, I'll be outside and talk to him, then!"

As Hil scrambled toward the front door, Church called after him, "And Hil? Thank you… for everything."

Hil paused at the front door with a hand on the knob. "Thank you, too, Church," Hil whispered. "I learned so much from you. I'm glad we could work this out."

"Me too, Hil."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially inspired by the songs "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum, "The Story of Us" by Taylor Swift, and "Ashley" by Halsey. I've probably referenced these before in the main stories, but hey, I figured I left a bit of Hil and Church's story unexplained and got this idea for a oneshot. (shrug)


	10. One of Plasma's Many Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benga and his two friends, Janna and Gaius, try to capture a former Neo Plasma grunt for the local police in an effort to impress Alder. Nathan and Church swoop in to save the day when it inevitably goes wrong—and Church meets Lacey, a former Neo Plasma grunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: A few months after the end of Black 2 to seven years after the end of Black 2. So, uh, yeah lol. Church is 24 by the end of this.  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Strong language, mild-to-moderate violence, mild blood, minor character death. LONG lol.  
> Also, I just want to warn that I have been working on this oneshot for ever since I originally published Hidden Grottos, and I basically just decided that I was finishing it tonight. I hope it's still good, but that's why it's so long and may seem rushed and weird at parts. Also, reading the previous chapter may help explain Church and Nathan being on such good terms. Anyway, hope it's still enjoyable!  
> Characters: Benga, Janna (OC), Gaius (OC), Lacey (OC), Zinzolin, Nathan (Nate), Churchill (Church), Hilbert (Hil)  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

"They spotted a Neo Plasma fugitive? Here? In _Floccesy?!"_ Janna's icy eyes widened in shock and she gripped Gaius by his shoulder, wrinkling the dark, green cardigan draped over him. Rattling him unknowingly in her apprehensive wonder, she squeaked, "But what would they want _here?!"_

"Dunno, but they were, Janna! Keep up!" Benga huffed at her as he crossed his arms. Tossing his head to throw a thick lock of red hair from his face, he smugly grinned and raised his chin at her. He was proud of himself, indeed, for the plan he had cooked up, as they stood in the deceivingly calm plains of the Floccesy Ranch. "Besides, what do we gotta fear from 'em? Ghetsis is gone and—"

"Your granddad would kill us if he heard you saying his name so casually," Gaius dryly cut Benga off, his lip twitching slightly from irritation with Janna's frantic hold. Searing her with his auburn gaze, he batted her away at last when he lost his patience and shook out his jacket. Smoothing his slick, black hair to regain his composure, he carried on in an even tone as if he had never been interrupted. "But I'm gonna guess you're telling us this because you have some Pidove-brained idea you want us to take part in."

"It's not Pidove-brained!" Benga retorted with a voice crack, losing his cool immediately by flattening his arms to his sides in fists. His hair flopped into his face and blocked his line of sight entirely. Annoyedly pushing it from view, he scowled at Gaius. "They said she was this woman that they caught on the Frigate, but she escaped later. They think she's probably been usin' the woods out near the Ranch to try and lay low 'til she can get outta dodge by havin' someone sketchy ferry her out the country."

Gaius and Janna both exchanged a look, and then glanced over their shoulders, and around themselves. As if to dramatically emphasize the point, the breeze picked up and rolled over the grassy fields around them. Sighing and pressing a palm to his forehead, Gaius defeatedly eyed the ground. "Don't tell me we're here at the Ranch to try and—"

"Catch her? Hell yeah!" Benga beamed and bounced from foot to foot, the strap of Poké Balls around his neck clacking against one another. Adjusting his black backpack once he was done, he cleared his throat and regarded them triumphantly once more. "C'mon, we've all got pokémon! We've beaten the gym leaders! What's just one scared lil' Neo Plasma girl gonna do?"

"Uh… I dunno about that, Benga…" Janna nervously swallowed and drew her hands together, anxiously rubbing them together. After a second, she puffed and pulled her white, furry jacket a little closer over herself. "Didn't they say that… that Ghetsis guy did a lot of the stuff he did on his own? And he was an old, crippled man!"

"Yeah, but it's three on one! C'mon, Janna," Benga whined, "I know you're kinda… skittish… but think about how good it felt when you beat the gym leaders! Remember that?" He did. She had agonized before each and every battle with one, training tediously for hours in her anxiety, only to blaze through their teams as if they hadn't been there at all. She was a small girl, dressed in a black, calf-length dress that was obscured by that thick, fuzzy jacket. Platinum hair framed her face and made her azure eyes absolutely piercing. Saying that to say, she didn't look very threatening, but there was something about her expression that quietly spoke of her power. "Now, imagine beating a fugitive, and draggin' 'em back to Floccesy for arrest! Wouldn't that be something?" _And then Grampa might finally let me go challenge the Black Tower. Pfft, I'll show him to think I'm not strong enough. I'll beat the Tower and then I'll take the Champion title, just like him!_

"I suppose nothing I say is going to stop you, is it?" Gaius dramatically wiped his forehead and rolled his eyes, but a smirk played at his pale lips, betraying his mischievous intrigue. Surreptitiously dropping a hand to the left pocket of his jeans, he thumbed a Poké Ball he had stored there. "…Fine. Do you know anything other than she's probably in the woods somewhere?"

With a playful glint in his eyes, Benga nodded vigorously. "There's this old path behind the Ranch! It's all grown over and hardly anyone goes back there anymore! I feel like if anyone was tryin' to hide, they'd be way back there somewhere! 'Sides, I can send out Garchomp to help us out. He can cut through anything!"

"You coming, Janna?" Gaius asked her as he turned an expectant, patient look on her, folding his hands behind his back. He had such a polite, calm aura, but Benga knew there was so much more to his friend than that; the quietness and self-discipline in his nature would fade as soon as anything exciting happened, and Benga was counting on that trait of his right about then as he, too, hopefully eyed Janna. She dipped her head at last under the pressure of both their stares and rubbed the back of her head.

"Well… I guess if it's with you two," she reluctantly agreed.

"Awesome! Then it's settled! Think of how proud Ald—I mean, everyone will be once we get back with this!" Benga joyously pumped a fist in the air, and then raced across the fields, heading for that break in the tree line that signaled the start of the overgrown, grassy path.

"H-hey, wait!" Janna yelped as she and Gaius scrambled after him. Benga smirked over his shoulder at them and, in his fervor, failed to notice the weak, wooden fence blocking his way onto that overgrown path, nor the sign on its front warning people not to venture into it. His knees collided with the low fence and he was launched over it, landing unceremoniously on his chin and palms.

Tasting the unpleasant tang of blood, Benga grimaced and rubbed a hand over his face, noting that he must have busted his lip from the fall. Shortly after, he heard the pounding of shoes as Janna and Gaius undoubtedly jumped the fence to get to him. Each grabbed an arm of his and hauled him up.

"Hey, you might wanna try watching where you're going next time," Gaius wryly muttered, though his face was expressionless with severity. Before he had a chance to dig into his bag for what Benga assumed would be some sort of handkerchief, Janna produced a box of tissues from her own white backpack.

Frustrated with their coddling, Benga shouldered them away and puffed. "I'm fine!" he exclaimed to them, wiping away the blood from his lip and onto his black, ripped pants. Janna gave him a very disapproving glare as he did, but he waved her off as he pointed ahead, into the thick undergrowth. A bush rustled and he heard the snapping of tree branches. "Did you see that?" Benga pressed urgently, grabbing Gaius by his shoulder, and shaking him.

"First of all, why do you two keep doing that?" Gaius hissed, brushing him off. "Second of all, this place is crawling with pokémon, it was probably just a wild Flaaffy or something. Had you paused to _read_ the sign…" Gaius pointedly paused, "then you would have noticed this place was barred from entry because it hasn't been maintained at all. They don't know what wild pokémon are lurking out here… Could be something really dangerous, Benga."

"This place makes me feel claustrophobic…" Janna complained, frowning at the messy, twisting path of grass ahead. "And… I am _not_ dressed for this."

"Wild Flaaffy don't scare me, Gaius!" Benga shot back at him, scurrying away from them and snatching a Poké Ball from around his neck. _Garchomp doesn't care about an Electric-type! And we just got here! We can't give up yet!_ "Garchomp laughs in the face of just about anything! Ha-ha-ha!"

He thought he heard more snapping of twigs and rustling of bushes but ignored them in favor of trying to screen Gaius and Janna for their reactions. _Come on, guys, just come with me!_ he impatiently thought. _I know it's not smart to go on my own… so, I need you so I can do this! Grampa's never gonna let me take on the Black Tower at this rate! I need this!_ Yet, Gaius and Janna both suddenly balked, eyes stretching wide, and they looked up and over his head.

"Um, Benga?" Gaius whispered. "Don't… freak out, but—"

"That's the biggest Gigalith I've ever seen!" Janna all but screamed, covering her face and cowering.

"I literally just said don't freak out, and you weren't even the one I was talking to!" Gaius snapped at her in his panic.

Looking up slowly with a sense of dread as he noticed the shadow that had befallen him, Benga paled as he saw the hulking Rock-type glaring down at him with soulless, empty eyes. It raised a foot and he yelped, rolling out from beneath the massive sole. It slammed the ground just a few, uncomfortable centimeters from his legs as he scrambled back to his feet, throwing hands protectively out in front of Gaius and Janna both. "Hey! Get back, already!" Benga called lamely at it. _What's a Gigalith doing out here? They don't live here… Hell, I've never even_ heard _of a wild Gigalith outside of a cave—_

The Gigalith lumbered closer and that snapped Benga from his stupor. Pitching Garchomp's Poké Ball, he called to Janna and Gaius, "Hey, send out something?"

As Garchomp stood formidably ahead of him, threateningly snarling at the opponent, and waving its bladed arms, Benga saw that Janna had frozen stiff in panic, and Gaius was trying to get her to move her feet. At Benga's stupid stare, Gaius glared at him and shot, "What are you doing? Battle that thing so it doesn't hurt her!"

"R-right!" Benga swiftly turned his attention back to the battle at hand. "Garchomp, Earth—ow!" He jumped away as he heard growling and felt something snap at his calf. Looking down, he blanched and scrambled away from a Mightyena, whose crushing jaws were far too close for comfort and whose scarlet eyes burned with hatred.

"Who are you?" a feminine voice called from ahead. Benga jerked his head just in time to see his Garchomp take the initiative to attack the Gigalith on its own, violently digging into the earth with its shovel-like claws and rocketing underground at the Rock-type. The voice came from a figure dressed in black, who easily jumped away from the crumbling earth around the Gigalith, landing next to the Mightyena with practiced precision. Cutting her minty eyes at him, most of her olive-skinned face obscured by a mask, she tossed a leg over the back of the Mightyena and grabbed fistfuls of its thick, dusky fur. As Garchomp burst from the earth and struck the Gigalith, knocking it to its side with a force that made the earth tremor and Benga fall to his rear, the masked woman spat, "Get out of here! _Leave!"_

"You're her, aren't you?" Benga retorted furiously, jumping back up, a smirk painting his face. "You're that woman they're lookin' for from the Frigate!" Beaming, he shouted, "Garchomp, get back over here!"

Yet, it seemed the woman was uninterested in battling by traditional means. Rather than ordering her Gigalith alone, she directed the Mightyena away, and then tossed another five pokémon free of their Poké Balls. Not only was that beyond the team limit of six when considering her Mightyena and Gigalith, but the pokémon she revealed were far tougher than he could have anticipated… Escavalier, Aggron, Beartic, Walrein, and Drifblim. Garchomp retreated to Benga's side, and the Gigalith hauled itself back upright with a roar that Benga fleetingly worried might deafen him. The Mightyena, meanwhile, threw its head back and howled to the sky.

"You shouldn't have come here," the woman hollered in a broken voice across the space between them as her pokémon mobilized in front of her. "Get out. _Now!_ Or you'll regret it!"

 _She's being defensive…_ Benga realized with a slight frown. He reached a hand up to clasp his fingers around the Poké Balls looping his neck. "Or wha—?" he started to taunt her, only to feel Gaius grab him by his shoulder and spin him around.

"Benga!" Gaius snarled, the polite edge from earlier long gone. "What are you doing? Let's get the hell out of here! I wasn't expecting her to have all of _that!"_ Still clutching Benga's shoulder, Gaius used his free hand to shake Janna again, who trembled like a leaf in the breeze as she eyed the fierce, opposing team. "Janna!" he frustratedly exclaimed. "Snap out of it, already, we gotta _go!"_

"You two get outta here!" Benga called as he wrenched his shoulder free. Aligning his crimson gaze with the woman's, he licked his lips. "I've gotta beat her!"

"Last warning!" the woman coldly yelled again. "Get out of here, or else!" Her Mightyena snapped its jaws cruelly, slobber dribbling from its muzzle, as if for emphasis.

"Benga!" Gaius desperately cried again. "Please, dude, let's just go! I don't wanna leave you here to fight her alone, but we—I—we _have_ to go, let the police deal with this, man, that's what they're _here_ for! I thought you were exaggerating earlier, and we'd just find her and then run back to Floccesy to tell—"

"Time's up," the woman cut him off. She raised a hand and shouted something Benga didn't comprehend, but clearly, her pokémon did, as each one either raised an extremity or opened its jaw to prep some sort of devastating attack. Benga's eyes widened as the severity of their situation dawned on him, and frantically tossed his strip of Poké Balls to free the rest of his team. A horrible, blinding flash of light melded with the red glow of the Poké Balls as they opened, and Benga whirled around and wrapped his arms around Gaius and Janna both, pulling them into something of a bearhug as he pulled them all to the ground. Fear he had never known before coursed through him as he just hoped against all hope that they would be okay…

Yet, the strident lights dissipated as quickly as they had come with a loud bang. Upon discovering he, Gaius, and Janna were all still in one piece, Benga shakily sat up and panted in shock as the smoke cleared and revealed an all-too familiar emerald, quadruped pokémon, a man in slick black and a fluttering, thin blue jacket astride its back. To his left, a redheaded man on an Arcanine stood steadfast. Flanking them and roaring at the opponents, Benga's pokémon—his Garchomp, Volcarona, Dragonite, Metagross, Slaking, and Tropius—roared or clanged body parts together in a bid to disorient the opposing team.

Champion Nathan tossed a glance over his shoulder from where he was seated upon Virizion's back, a scathing, furious glare that Benga felt might smite him if he stared for too long. "What the hell are you doing?" Nathan snarled. "Benga, is that you?"

Although shrinking under his glare, Benga saw the woman on the Mightyena start to make a run for it out the corner of his eye, and he pointed vigorously after her. "H-hey! She's getting away!"

Whipping his head back to see her, Nathan growled, and turned to the man on the Arcanine beside him. "Church, catch her!"

 _Elite Four Church?_ Benga blinked and was a little ashamed to admit he hadn't recognized him at first. Granted, he hadn't seen Church much, only on a couple of his visits through the Pokémon League, but still… A curt nod was all Church responded with before his Arcanine sailed over Nathan and Virizion in a graceful arc, speeding after the woman on the Mightyena with an Extreme Speed.

"Recall your pokémon!" Nathan howled over his shoulder at Benga.

Benga swallowed anxiously as he stumbled forward to look for his strap of Poké Balls, finding it beneath his Garchomp's feet. "But all those really strong pokémon, don't you need help—"

 _"Recall them!"_ Nathan ordered, issuing him another testy glare. "Don't argue with me, Benga! You're in no position to fight this battle! _Thank_ you!" Turning back to the opposing pokémon, Nathan pitched his Zoroark free. She lowered her head and seemed to assess the situation ahead as Benga did as he was told, recalling his team to their Poké Balls. All of a sudden, the battlefield darkened in a cloud of shadow, and Nathan's Zoroark vanished into the sea of blackness. The murkiness crept up around the woman's pokémon and they shuffled backward, looking much less enthused to battle.

"Thank Arceus he was here… No idea why Champion Nathan was out here in Floccesy, but I'm so glad," Benga heard Gaius breathe in relief behind him. Reluctantly tearing his eyes from the battlefield, Benga glanced back at his friends, sitting up on the ground now, and held out a hand in offering to help them up. Gaius took one look at him, and practically bared his teeth. "Oh, now you want to help!" Rolling his eyes, he groaned and moved so that he was standing, partially hauling the frozen Janna to her feet. Shamefacedly watching them and peeking at Nathan's battle once more before leaving him to it, Benga hung his head and decided to silently follow Gaius as he and Janna started to head back for the gate out of the area.

* * *

Mightyena were known for speed, but nowhere near as much as Arcanine were. Church caught up to the woman easily and with another Extreme Speed from his Arcanine, knocked her clear of the pokémon effortlessly. Bowled over, the Mightyena snarled and flailed its paws, and once it returned to its feet, it snapped fangs at Arcanine's ears. Arcanine, even without prompting from Church, drew a mighty paw across the opponent's muzzle and barked furiously at them. Whimpering but scowling hatefully, the Mightyena was finally subdued, watching intently but making no moves to assist its trainer as Church leapt from the Arcanine's back and snatched her arms in his. Tucking her arms behind her back, he expected to be able to easily cuff her and then bring her back to Nathan on Arcanine, but she screamed and threw all her weight against him, knocking them both to the ground.

Surprised and annoyed, Church vice-gripped her arms, refusing to let go. "Hey, hey, hey!" he grunted through gritted teeth. "Calm down, calm, calm!" _How the hell did I let Nathan drag me into this?_ Not only did he hate physical altercations, but he wasn't exactly built for them, either, and even this lean woman was putting up one hell of a fight, to the point he barely kept hold of her. After a few seconds of struggle that felt like an eternity, though, they finally fell still in the dirt, each of them panting dazedly.

"Get off me!" she screamed at him, her voice breaking partway through. That gave Church some pause, and he confusedly looked her over, noticing that her green eyes were wide as saucers, tears forming there. She weakly jerked her arms again and then yelped in pain, defeatedly resting her head against the soil at last. "Please, let me go, I—I don't want to die—I'm _sorry!"_

"What are you…" Church huffed, "talking about?" Wincing as he relied strictly on his legs to pull them both from the ground, he noticed her legs buckled under her own weight. Swiftly retrieving the handcuffs from his belt, Church fitted them over her wrists with some struggle, clicking them into place at last. She collapsed to her knees as he accidentally let her go, and he shook his head. "What are you talking about?" he repeated breathlessly. "Nobody's dying today. You're getting arrested," he snorted amusedly, "for, y'know… assisting a terrorist organization, but that's not gonna get you killed, and most definitely not by me. I'm not some judge, jury, and executioner. Anyway, you—"

His attempt to try to clumsily recite her rights that he had been asked to say in the event of making such an arrest was cut off by her spitting at his face. He dodged it and grimaced, but still, she cut those fearful eyes at him and brokenly snapped, "You can't fool me! Z-Zinzolin and Ghetsis told me all about you, and the League, and how you'll torture anyone that was in Team Plasma—let me _go!"_ She struggled again, but all that succeeded in doing was knocking her to the ground painfully on her right elbow, causing her to squeak in pain again. "H-how you killed Ghetsis, and…"

"I'm gonna be honest," Church huffed, cracking a nervous grin, "I have no idea what you are talking about. This isn't the middle ages. Nobody's gonna get the iron maiden or throw you in the brass bull. Also, we didn't kill Ghetsis. Ghetsis escaped the Giant Chasm… Though, according to Consul Hil, he was… seizing… and likely died of natural causes shortl—"

She spat at him again as she wrestled to sit upright once more. All she really succeeded in doing was hitting her head harshly against the ground, stilling herself at last. Between laborious pants for breath, she shivered and whimpered, "No… humans are… humans are cruel, and… and Ghetsis… Zinzolin said…" Her teeth chattered as she trailed off, huffing like she couldn't find enough oxygen in the air to support herself. The look of sheer terror on her face frightened Church… He really didn't think he was that scary, and more than that, the stuff she was saying just didn't make sense… He concernedly looked her over and shook his head. This suddenly felt much sadder than he had expected it to.

"Maybe all humans on the Frigate were cruel," Church muttered, "but not everyone in the world's the same. I'm just… I'm just gonna help you up now, okay? Don't fight me, I don't want you to hurt yourself worse." He staggered over to her and grabbed her cuffed wrists with one hand, using his other to help support her shoulders as she weakly scrambled to her feet. He realized, with his close-up perspective now that she was subdued, that her olive skin was marred with various scars, the freshest of which looked like a deep laceration over the left of her neck that had only recently healed.

To his words, she merely looked away from him. "Just shut up and take me," she growled, still sounding as defeated as before. "My Poké Balls are in my pockets. Take them and shut up."

 _She… really believes this is it, doesn't she?_ Church frowned at her and shook his head. "You said something about Zinzolin. Is he out here in the forest?"

"You're not getting him, too!" she fiercely snarled, flaring to life again by throwing her shoulders against him. He yelped as she inadvertently bent his right wrist at an awkward angle in the struggle, and yet again, she crashed to her side. "Fuck!" she whimpered, falling still all over again. Her Mightyena lunged forward abruptly and snarled at Church, snapping its jaws protectively. Blinking, Church discovered what he had previously mistaken for hatred or rage in the pokémon's eyes was fear in action. Much like how Lacey—that was the girl's name, she hadn't said it yet, but he knew that to be true from the mission debrief before they had arrived in Floccesy—violently feared him, so did her pokémon. That realization gave Church some pause and he gnawed his lower lip, only watching as Arcanine darted forward to growl and urge the Mightyena away again. Some part of him got the sense that, as he looked over the pretty, yet scarred and terrified woman against the ground, she had been as much a victim of Ghetsis' abuse as a perpetrator of it.

"Listen," Church urgently pressed as he stepped around her, kneeling in front of her. He pressed a hand over his chest. "I know you don't trust me. That's okay, but… I'm not here to hurt you," he insisted with as much conviction as he could manage, putting on that brilliant smile, and tilting his head in a way he hoped might help relax her. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Okay? But I can't leave you out here. That's just not… But listen, we can help you. Even if you have some crimes to answer for, Lacey, you'll be safe. You won't have anyone hunting you down for fun like Benga back there and you won't have anyone like Ghetsis or Zinzolin ordering you around. You'll have a place to sleep… Have you been sleeping in the forest out here since the Frigate?"

There was a long pause where she simply gawked at him, but then… a tiny nod from her. That delighted Church to see he was getting through to her in some capacity.

"You'll have somewhere warm and decent to sleep," Church repeated with a slight chuckle. "I mean, I'm sure even if you had somewhere decent on the Frigate, it was cold, right? I was just there for a day and, whew…" Church half-grimaced at the uncomfortable memory of the attack on the Frigate, which brought with it a slew of turbulent emotions. Thankfully, with the time since then, he'd gotten good at pushing them down when he didn't want to acknowledge them. Carrying on, he snickered and added, "Also, maybe not the best food, but hey, you don't have to cook."

"You're trying to talk me into thinking jail is a great place and that they won't hurt me," Lacey muttered, "and you think I'm supposed to believe that?"

"I never said it was a great place," Church shrugged. "It's still jail. You still hurt a lot of people, I'm sure. But there's a reason they're called 'corrections facilities' in their titles and not just 'jail.'" Sighing, he shook his head. "We want to help you. Helping you helps us, because it means you stop hurting people and we don't have to police you. We don't get anything out of hurting you or holding you hostage forever."

Giving him a Deerling-in-headlights stare, she panted a bit before mumbling, "I… guess you don't have much to get out of keeping me, do you… That costs resources and time…"

 _I wouldn't have put it like_ that, _but… What odd wording. Just how did Ghetsis run that damn Frigate?_ "Yeah, see?" Church beamed. "Now, can I get your Poké Balls to put your friends away, maybe you help us find Zinzolin, and we take you in? I _promise,_ nobody's going to hurt you."

She swallowed hard and clenched her eyes shut, having paled as white as a sheet, he realized. It seemed to take all of her energy to say, "Okay… Zinzolin is deeper in the forest… he's very sick… Will they not harm him, either?"

"Of course not. Whatever's wrong with him, he'll get the help he needs before we get into all the legal stuff," Church explained gently.

"Good… he's dying…" She paused to lick her clammy lips and it seemed as if all the tension and will to fight evaporated from her body. Her muscles slacked and her eyes were half-lidded then. "I've been trying so hard to find a way to save him… You mean that they just… they will just help him? Like that?" She tensed slightly again. "Not that I have anything over your head, but you're not lying…?"

Church huffed as he tried to think of a way to convince her. "Well," he uncomfortably started, "I don't like to point this out, but if I wanted to, I could have just ignored everything you said, had Arcanine knock you out, cuffed you and been on my way. Me trying to convince you everything's gonna be alright was a lot more effort." He rubbed a bruise forming on one of his arms where she had hit him, snorting, "And also more painful. But," he raised a finger at her, "I… I really don't like seeing anyone that scared. Much less of me. Now, c'mon, let me help you up and don't hit me, and we'll get Zinzolin and get you out of here."

"Okay… I'm sorry, I never caught your name…?"

"Churchill. But most just call me Church."

"Ah… Lacey… Though, you knew that…"

* * *

Having gathered all of Lacey's pokémon back in their Poké Balls, Church and Nathan were navigating deeper into the wilds of the Floccesy Ranch to try to find Zinzolin. Lacey had started to direct them toward his location, claiming he was in a hollowed-out, grand tree down a slight path she had started to carve out among the vegetation, but she had passed out against Church's Arcanine before she had finished showing them the way. After ensuring she was alright, just likely exhausted, they had carried on and after an hour or so of searching, came across a towering, dying tree with a hollowed-out center, and a purple jacket bunched up near its entrance. It was covered in mud and a terrible smell emanated from the tree, something musty Church couldn't place, almost tangy. Indeed, Arcanine even growled and refused to get too close. That deeply concerned Church; he regularly had to call his Arcanine off from chasing terrible smells in Virbank. He didn't like the implications of whatever horrors awaited them in that treehollow if even Arcanine was uninterested.

Church grimaced and pinched his nose as he shared an uncertain look with Nathan. "Guess we found him," Church tried to joke, though it came off more as a grim remark.

Unlike Church, however, Nathan didn't look the least bit torn up about the situation at hand. In fact, he had seemed almost aggravated with Church's gentleness with Lacey, and had gone silent as could be, refusing to speak to her as he rode astride Cobalion deeper into the forest. The Steel-type was still present, though it, too, refused to come any closer, just like Church's Arcanine.

As Nathan regarded Zinzolin's treehollow, he clenched his jaw. "Guess we did," he said flatly, marching closer to the tree. "Zinzolin! You're under arrest! Sit up with your hands up, either way, you're coming out of there!"

There was no reply. Church picked his way closer and almost gagged on the sheer scent of urine, sweat, and… blood? "Arceus," he spat, "what—"

"Shit!" Nathan hissed, backpedaling from the treehollow abruptly, so fast that he tripped on a root and was caught by his Zoroark, Zeshi. Losing his nerve, Church jumped away as well, suddenly not wanting to go any closer. Zeshi nosed Nathan back to his feet and he thanked her offhandedly, covering his face and shaking his head. "He's dead," Nathan mumbled through his hands. "Something got to him, or… I don't know, but he's _very_ dead." Gagging and spluttering, Nathan hobbled back toward Cobalion. "That was awful, oh my Arceus!"

Both of them jerked their heads back toward Church's Arcanine when they heard Lacey squeak. "Zinzolin? What—what happened?!" She was struggling to remain balanced as she muscled her way to an upright position despite her bound arms, and her face was so, so pale, as she looked over the treehollow. As if hit with the scent in the air, she abruptly wrinkled her nose and gagged. Turning a harsh glare on Church, one of sheer betrayal, she snarled, "You lied! You said—you—I can't be _lieve_ I would be so _stupid!"_ Before Church could say anything else, she howled, "Zinzolin!"

"I didn't do this!" Church yelped at the accusation, gawking after the treehollow. "I—"

"Church, enough," Nathan cut him off, then narrowed his eyes after Lacey. "Lacey, that is enough, we did nothing to Zinzolin. We found him like this, looks like a wild pokémon got to him. Calm down, or we'll use whatever force necessary to bring you in. I'd really rather not to have to hurt you," he growled as he stalked nearer to her, "but I'm not letting you go. So, knock this off. Got it?"

For his efforts, Nathan received a spit to the face. He recoiled in shock, then slowly drew a hand over his face. Blinking, he asked in a quiet incredulousness that honestly frightened Church, "I'm sorry, but did the Neo Plasma grunt and apologist just spit in my fucking face?"

"More where that came from, pretty boy," Lacey hissed in an all-too snakelike tone. "I'm not scared of you. Murderer."

 _Liar,_ Church thought, then jumped to put himself between Nathan and her. He staggered when Nathan shoved him to try to get at her, but once he regained his footing, he snatched Nathan by his left forearm. "Nathan! Stop it!"

"I am not a murderer!" Nathan snarled. "I am not the same as you or any of your freaky friends, you _bitch_ —!"

Church violently shook Nathan, and snapped, "Nathan!" That seemed to snap him out of his enraged trance, going limp in Church's hold for a split second as he regarded the Elite Four with a fleeting look of fright. Just as soon as he'd noticed it, though, it was gone, and Nathan wrenched his arm out of the other's hold. He took a deep, composing breath and brushed himself off.

"Sorry," he muttered, shooting Lacey another look. He shook his head. "Sorry. Shouldn't have snapped like that…"

Although he and Nathan didn't hang out as much as Church would have liked, they knew plenty about each other that few others did. Nathan, with his brusque but mostly playful disposition, could easily distract Church's wandering and self-destructive mind; Church's calmer and caring personality could reign Nathan in whenever his mind started playing tricks on him, enticing him to be crueler and sharper-tongued than usual. That meant Nathan knew of Church's one-sided love for Hil and how it still wasn't entirely over for him, even though he and Hil had started to work out their new relationship as just friends in recent times, and it meant that Church knew of the horrors Nathan had faced in his past… Which, he uncomfortably realized, wasn't that long ago at all. It had only been just shy of two years since Nathan's abuse had stopped. He had done a lot of growing over his journey through Unova and he was definitely not the same as the flighty, turbulent boy he met at Pokéstar Studios back then, but he wasn't perfect. He still had bad days, and Rosa had done a number on him as well at the tail end of his journey. Neo Plasma had been a horrific terrorist regime, there was no doubt about that, but Church knew that the source of Nathan's hatred for them stemmed mainly from an arrogant, bloodthirsty brunette—and that he hated any comparisons to such a girl, including someone calling him a murderer or any variation thereof.

No, Nathan and Church were not close, at least not in the way Church and Hil were as friends, but they were still there for each other. With that in mind, Church dipped his head at his friend. "It's alright, Nathan," he said gently, smiling. "You did your part, we got her, we know where Zinzolin is, and you've got her pokémon in custody. Just help me get out of this forest…" Church grimaced and looked around uncertainly. "Whatever did that"—Church pointed to Zinzolin's treehollow—"could still be hanging out, you know."

Nathan nodded at his words and said nothing, suddenly unable to look at Lacey as he mounted Cobalion. The pokémon knowingly chuffed at him and looked over its shoulders back at him, in a way that made Church think it was perhaps telling him that everything was okay. Nathan stiffly responded by rubbing the side of its neck, and Zeshi followed closely on Cobalion's heels as Nathan started to lead them away.

Sighing, Church turned back to his Arcanine and looked at Lacey pointedly. "Can I get on my Arcanine or are you going to fight me every step of the way back?"

"What's the point?" she asked cruelly once Nathan was out of earshot, though her voice was raw with emotion. With a disappointed, heartbroken look that gave Church a painful pang of sympathy for her, she brokenly said, "There's no reason for me to care anymore. Zinzolin's dead. I have nobody. I'd be better off dead than just scraping by out here."

Frustrated, Church pinched the bridge of his nose. He highly doubted Zinzolin was that amazing of a person, considering part of the reason he was wanted was for supporting the attack on Opelucid, and her unwillingness to believe him when he said they hadn't done anything was aggravating in a way he didn't understand. Why did she want so adamantly to believe he, Nathan, and the rest of the League were these evil, awful people, while she held people like _Zinzolin_ in such high regard? What had Ghetsis _done_ to her? "I told you, nobody's—"

"Shut up!" Lacey blasted at him, curling her lips to bare her teeth at him animalistically, to the point he could see her gums. Which were white. "Just shut up! You're a liar and I hate you! I hate all of you!" With that, she half-collapsed against Arcanine's back again. "Just take me back and shut up."

Privately, he decided he was very interested to learn more about her, but that he would get nothing else from her that day. Especially considering how poor her condition was, he just wanted to get her taken care of and the legality of the situation figured out, then he would decide how he could understand her. Maybe, if she was just woefully misguided as she seemed, he could help her. Not everyone from Team Plasma's side of Unova had to be a tragedy. After all, N was once their king, and now, he was a Consul of Unova.

_Maybe there are other diamonds in the rough._

* * *

Benga felt small indeed as he stood behind Alder, out on one of Floccesy's paths. Nathan and Church were there, surrounded by a small squadron of police, most of which came from Virbank. The police were dealing with the girl they had captured—Lacey, Benga thought he caught them call her—while Nathan offered a report and information regarding Zinzolin… who had apparently died to a wild pokémon in the forest. When Nathan was finished talking with them, he turned a searing look over Alder and Benga both, and approached them with his hands on his hips.

"Alder."

"Champion Nathan," Alder greeted him tensely, "thank you so much for—"

"Why was your grandson out there trying to fight that girl?" Nathan brusquely cut him off, brown gaze hardened on Benga. "He could have been killed. Worse, he could have gotten the two friends he was with killed."

Shrinking under those words, Benga felt as if they might suffocate him. His hair flopped in his face and he made no effort to brush it away this time. _I didn't mean for any of that to happen, though!_ he thought desperately. _We couldn't have died!_ Of course, he knew that was a lie. Zinzolin and Lacey had clearly been living in that forest for an untold amount of time, and he had just been killed that very same day. But it was just too horrible to think that he could have potentially led himself, Gaius, and Janna all to their untimely ends.

"Right… Thank you, Champion Nathan, for your assistance," was all Alder had to say to that. "I'll keep a closer eye on him from now on, of course."

"I didn't mean to get anyone hurt!" Benga finally burst, tugging at some of his hair. "I just—I just wanted Grampa to see that I could take on the Black Tower! Y'know, out in Black City…"

"Benga!" Alder hissed. "Now is not the time! You'll be lucky if—"

"He'll be lucky if _what?"_ Nathan cut him off sharply, squaring his shoulders some. His Zoroark appeared at his side then in a flash of violet and growled at Alder. "Don't threaten that kid in front of me, Alder."

With a mortified expression, Alder blinked. It slowly soured until it seemed he wanted to say something more along the lines of, "Pretty sure you're still a kid, too, Nathan, but alright." Even so, all Alder really said was, "Er… Right. I just meant that if he's so reckless as to go after an ex-Neo Plasma member, then I don't think he should be going to the Black Tower. The battles there are notoriously brutal, and accidents are common…"

"It's still a controlled environment," Nathan pointed out bluntly. Jabbing a thumb behind him and toward where the police were still gathered, he added, "Makes me wonder if he'd have gone after Crazy and her friend in the forest if he had that to do instead."

"So, you'd like me to send him there."

"Yeah, I do."

"He is my grandson, Champion Nathan," Alder softly warned, "you do remember that, yes? And you remember that I am Alder?"

"Former Champion of Unova who wandered for years and let the League rot from the inside out," Nathan testily replied, eyes glittering. "I do know, actually." The end of his lips curled slightly. "You do not own that boy, Alder. How old is he?"

"…Seventeen."

"So, why is he still acting like he's afraid of your shadow?" Nathan pressed, starting to circle him. "Do you hold that old title above his head, Alder, because he's the only one that still respects it? Because you know nobody else does and you need to feel that sense of power from somewhere? About how right am I?"

As if he had lost the patience to speak to Nathan with any proper authority, thanks to the way Nathan was railing on him, Alder bristled. "How dare you! Listen here, I—"

"Th-that's enough, please," Benga squeakily spoke up, gingerly tiptoeing over to Alder and Nathan with his hands up. Swallowing hard, he tilted his head at Nathan pleadingly. "Please… Leave him alone." _I never thought about it that way, though… Is… is that true? I mean, I know Grampa didn't mean to hurt Unova… He was just upset after losing his Volcarona…_ "We'll work this out, um… Th-thank you, Champion Nathan…"

Regarding Benga expressionlessly, Nathan stared for a moment. At last, he dipped his head respectfully and took a step back. Yet, from there he growled, "Alder, please do not treat that boy as if you own him. It's not his fault you made your mistakes." With that, he turned on a heel and headed back for the police, sharing a few words with Church.

An awkward silence stretched between Benga and his grandfather until Alder groaned. "As much as I hate to say it," Alder grumbled, "Nathan's right. Maybe it is time you get out there so you quit causin' trouble."

"Hey!" Benga indignantly exclaimed. "I do not cause that much trouble—"

"Last week I had to send someone to save you from the sea because you tried jumping onto the back of a wild Gyarados," Alder dryly interrupted, cutting his eyes at his grandson. Benga winced and laughed uneasily.

"W-well… I thought I was gonna catch it…"

"Maybe havin' something to do like the Tower ain't such a bad idea," Alder admitted. "I know I don't have anything left I can teach you, anyway…"

 _Well, now I feel bad about it! Maybe Alder messed up… maybe he messed way worse than I understand, but… He doesn't have anyone left but me, and he sounds like he thinks I'm just never gonna come back…_ Frowning, Benga bounced in front of Alder and pumped a fist in the air. "Well, I'll win! And even if it takes a while, I'll still do it! And I'll come back and visit! You'll see! I have a Volcarona too, remember? I can Fly back whenever!"

Taken aback by that comment, Alder jolted. "You will?"

"Well, yeah! What did you think I was gonna do?"

"Er…" Alder chuckled halfheartedly. "Well, you spoke of leaving so much I just… thought as soon as I took away the reins, I'd never see ya again, so to speak."

So, your solution was to just never let me leave? Benga wanted to laugh and ask. Instead, he simply said, "'Course I'll come back. I mean, Gaius and Janna are still here, too… I grew up here." He shrugged. "I'll always have somethin' to come back to." He paused and suddenly yelped, tugging at his hair again. "Gaius and Janna! I need to go check and make sure they're okay! I'll be right back!"

Benga kicked up dust and grass as he bolted away, and Alder just chuckled softly after him. "Still unlearning all those mistakes I've been makin' over the years," he sadly commented to himself. "Need to learn to let go…"

* * *

Church realized quickly after Lacey was properly taken into custody that he might have been in for a war rather than a battle. She was accused of being involved in a litany of smaller transgressions committed by Neo Plasma as well as part of many pokémon robberies, and although only a handful ended up getting properly proven, it was enough to revoke her rights to own pokémon altogether and sentence her to quite a few years in prison. Throughout the process of her getting accused and properly charged, however, Church had adamantly tried to keep up with his promise of learning everything he could about her and helping her however he could. He was still convinced there was so much more to her than he or anyone else could have known, and he was determined. He didn't know or understand why, but his desire to help her was a welcome one. His passion for acting had started to wane, and although he and Hil were on better terms, it was still painful to come to terms with the fact he and Hil could never be together; so, maybe having nothing better to do had thrust him into the desire to help Lacey. Regardless of why, he did, and though the first few times he visited her in prison she refused to speak to him, the fourth time, she had cautiously decided to accept his visit and they spoke through the stereotypical glass booth with a phone on either side of it.

After navigating a few cagy replies from her, she seemed more willing to speak, in that she admitted, "I know it wasn't you who hurt Zinzolin… I was told that some Mandibuzz came after him because of the… smell…" After a momentary pause, she had muttered, "I believe that, because I kept having to help him fight them off… I left him with some pokémon in Poké Balls, but… he might have passed out…"

Honestly, Church hadn't even known that detail, so upon hearing it, he felt physically ill and had to take a moment to look away. "Oh, my Arceus, Mandibuzz went after him while he was _alive?"_ he practically squeaked. "That's…"

"Awful, yeah," Lacey mumbled, fidgeting with the phone cord. "He was hurt bad after the Frigate. Big, infected wound on his back. He wouldn't go to any doctors and told me that they'd kill him…" She gave a shuddery sigh. "I went to a doctor shortly after you took me in… they didn't seem happy to see me, but nobody… nobody _hurt_ me… and I felt better after a while. So… you _were_ right about that."

He raised a brow at her. "I feel like there's a 'but' coming after that."

"But," she glowered at him, "that doesn't mean you're right about everything else. Maybe Ghetsis did lie about a lot. He can't have lied about everything. Why would have done so much over nothing?"

"That's a can of Venipede a lot of people have tried to figure out," Church laughed hoarsely, shaking his head. "Don't know if that's a path you wanna dedicate yourself to…"

"I've got twelve years to kill back here," Lacey snorted at him. "I've got nothing but time. Now, stop calling me all the time to visit here, I have better things to do than try to get to know you or any other League Lillipup."

"League Lillipup?" Church asked in amusement, ignoring the rest of her statements so far. "Never heard that phrase before."

"It means you're a lapdog for the one on top," she hissed, "your buddy, Nate, who was with you when you caught me."

"Nathan," Church corrected her gently, "and I am not his—"

"You don't even like me saying the shorthand version of his name," Lacey spat, "and you work under him. I know how power distribution works. Nathan sits on his throne and you all do his bidding. Hil and N are figureheads, the same as always. That traitor was never good for anything else."

 _Whew, she's intense. Also, wow, she has no idea how anything actually works. Kinda wish Ghetsis was still around so I could kick him in the nose!_ Church just blinked. _Baby steps, baby steps, Church… Can't go unraveling all of that in a day. Also, twelve years?! She doesn't know how society works as it is! She'll just learn how to be a prison inmate for the rest of her life… and something tells me she already knows how to be an inmate._ Frowning, Church shrugged. "Alright, I'll go for now. But I'll be coming back."

"Don't bother," Lacey sneered at him. "I won't answer."

"Oh, is that a challenge?" Church beamed. "I can be quite annoying when I wanna be."

"I'm sure you can, Elite Four dog," she hissed. "Now, go away, I'm done talking." With that, she hung up and crossed her arms. A strand of stray, black hair landed in her face and she puffed some air to blow it away.

Grinning back at her, Church jumped up and waved. _Oh, won't she be fun?_

Though the next few attempts to visit her ended in her refusal, she yet again obliged him another time. And another, and another, and another. Every meeting started the same way, with her preaching her hatred for the League Staff, followed by her slowly revealing a nugget of information about her prior life. Church learned all sorts of things about her over the course of her first year incarcerated; like how she had lived the last eight years of her life prior to her capture with Team Plasma… and she was only two years older than Church, meaning that she had been with them since she was twelve. He never could pry it out of her just why she had joined them in the first place, but he discovered that she originally came from Nacrene City, likely having joined Team Plasma just a few months before Church had moved into the town. She had been given her first pokémon—her Mightyena, a Poochyena at the time—by Team Plasma, and had amassed the rest of her team through thieving as well. She had never bought into Team Plasma's mantra that pokémon deserved to be 'free;' instead, it seemed Ghetsis had convinced her that only Team Plasma could have pokémon, because only they understood the true nature of humanity. Although they were still human and fully capable of humanity's 'evil,' because they recognized it, they could alter their own behavior, whereas the rest of Unova failed to recognize this fact of life at all.

That cultish core belief, Church realized, was at the root of all of Lacey's misgivings. She truly believed humans were nasty and evil by nature, and that people who convinced themselves they were otherwise were the worst kind, because they were capable of unfathomable horrors without ever being aware or taking responsibility. That was why whenever Church tried to show he was harmless, she would scrutinize him more and tell him off harsher than before; shows of trust were seem as attempts at manipulation. Yet, trying to tell her she was wrong didn't exactly work either, did it? In the end, he concluded it would simply take time to show her that she was wrong, that if he had wanted to harm her, he would have done so a long time ago.

At first, he started volunteering at the prison, dropping a project he had recently been cast in at Pokéstar Studios (not that it sat well with the Studio, especially when they learned he was volunteering at a prison that primarily took in ex-Team Plasma), and that seemed to genuinely shock Lacey. He worked in various parts of the prison, wherever he was needed that day. Sometimes, that meant acting as janitorial staff or helping with food preparation, but most of the time, it was actually assisting with the educational programs. The teachers that worked at the prison tended to be elderly and could have difficulty running the classes on their own, he'd often act as their assistant. Pokémon were strictly forbidden on the premises except for on-duty officers, though, and inside of those steel walls felt like an entirely different world… It wasn't bad, but it was predictable, scheduled, and prisoners had a strict hierarchy amongst themselves that even the officers and guards didn't understand. Uncomfortably, Church thought that this environment was likely little better than the very Frigate Lacey, or any number of the other ex-Neo Plasma members there, had come from—and he was sure Lacey was not the only one that had been there through traumatic means. Regardless, volunteering gave him a way to occasionally interact with Lacey in a neutral way, to passively show her his interest in merely helping, though he often did encourage her to pick up some jobs or classes around the prison.

"With good behavior," he had explained, "you can get rewarded by having your sentence lowered. It's basically showing them that you're actually learning while you're in here, so they see it as progress, and that you don't need to be here for as long as they thought."

"It's kowtowing to them," Lacey had bitingly retorted. "…Though, I guess the sooner I can get out from under your claws, the sooner I don't have to do that anymore at all, huh…"

He had sighed and rubbed his temple, laughing weakly into the phone. "Well, that's one way to look at it, too, yeah."

It was frustratingly slow progress, but there _was_ occasional progress to stave off the fears that she may never come completely around. Like the time he had been helping her in an easygoing art class, where she had successfully recreated something on the canvas and excitedly waved him over to show him. Of course, that had been followed immediately by her cagily threatening to paint his face next, but even just that little flicker of genuine joy from her had been so rewarding. Or perhaps the time she had burst in excitement to tell him of a book she had read, or over a TV show she had briefly gotten to watch in her share of the rec room (supervised, of course). Over time, those glimpses into who she really was became more apparent, slowly scrubbing away the terror and hatred Ghetsis had instilled in her.

Yet, news of Church's involvement at the facility was quick to reach public ears. At first, it wasn't that big of a deal, most were just rather shocked he would have wanted to, considering he had been there at the Frigate the day it was destroyed; however, the director at Pokéstar Studios that Church had canceled on had clearly not forgiven him, and as Church had made the mistake of informing him why he was canceling—to help a girl he thought Team Plasma had hurt much in the same way as N—said director knew all the right strings to pull to put Church down in public opinion. He had callously informed a magazine that Church had bucked his project at Pokéstar Studios and perhaps even his role as an Elite Four member to court an ex-Neo Plasma member, one that was imprisoned no less, and while the magazine he had initially reported it to was not that popular, the news still spread like wildfire. The _scandal_ of Churchill Pines falling in love with a terrorist soon brought some scrutiny on the League itself, and Church was briefly asked to stop at the corrections facility, even.

One day, Church had returned to the Pokémon League and exhaustedly called Nathan on the Xtransceiver as he retreated to his quarters. "I just don't know what to do about this," Church defeatedly explained once Nathan picked up and they briefly exchanged greetings. "They're smearing me. I can't say anything against it, for obvious reasons, and who on Earth is going to stand up for me? The League's getting shit, too, and I know N's going to start getting crap again for having once been the King of Team Plasma, and—"

"Hey, hey, wait a sec," Nathan waved a hand at him, then smirked. "Think you should turn on the TV. Channel sixteen."

"I have HD, what channel is that in modern speak?" Church chuckled halfheartedly back at him.

"West Unova News Network, you wise ass," Nathan laughed back at him. "Seriously, go on, turn it on, check it."

Rolling his eyes but snatching up the remote anyway to the TV, Church flopped down on the couch of his quarters and turned the TV on. Holding down the microphone button on the remote, he dramatically sighed, "West Unova News Network."

With that, the TV switched to an HD channel of the news, and he was shocked to find an image of N and Hil standing on some sort of stage in front of a microphone. Put more accurately, N was behind Hil as Hil adjusted the microphone and tapped his fingers impatiently, awaiting his cue to speak. They appeared to be at some studio in Castelia… It didn't appear to be an outdoor spectacle, at the very least. As soon as he was given the okay, however, Hil eagerly picked the microphone from the podium. Text at the bottom of the screen read 'Consuls Speak Regarding Churchill Pines Scandal,' scrolling past painfully slow.

"The Unovan Pokémon League has been made aware of allegations against Elite Four Churchill Pines over"—Hil paused to take an annoyed breath (which was caught by the microphone)—"'courting' an ex-Neo Plasma member, Lacey. First of all, on behalf of the entire Unovan Pokémon League, I would like to address calls for Churchill's resignation or firing: _it's not happening._ Having romantic feelings for someone of the same age is not an illegal act. However, that's not even to say that these allegations are _true."_ Hil paced the length of the stage and progressively sounded more and more irritated. "I would like to ask that all of those reporting on this issue to please consider the source. The original published account was from a tabloid magazine, sourced from a disgruntled director from Pokéstar Studios. Churchill asked to be removed from a project he had yet to sign a commitment to so that he could volunteer at the Plasma Corrections Facility as well as remain an Elite Four member. Funny, then, how that director turned around to this tabloid magazine in a bid to smear Churchill's name, isn't it?"

He stopped again to take a shaky breath and Church uneasily grinned at the screen. From the Xtransceiver in his palm, Nathan was cackling like a fool. "Someone is ma- _a_ -ad," he practically sang. "Yeah, so, Hil's been pissed about that for a while now but only got back recently to say anything about it. N's there for moral support, I don't think he has any lines in this speech, unless Hil decides to have him say some instead of him. I had to edit it to make sure Hil wasn't about to tell the rest of Unova to fuck off. Me! _I'm_ the one that had to edit it to make it _nicer!"_ he howled in laughter. "And _trust me,_ I had to knock off some lines in there."

"Regardless," Hil picked up, "even if these rumors are true, so what? N is an ex-Team Plasma member. He has proven again and again the propensity for these people to change, and yet, there are so many of you sinking your teeth into this story and treating Lacey as if she is incapable of change. In fact, most accounts simply refer to her as a terrorist, and fail to even say that she was no more a terrorist than any number of the grunts that the Plasma Corrections Facility has rehabilitated. Several of which you may know as the Silver Knights in Driftveil, who work tirelessly to reunite stolen and abused pokémon with their rightful owners, even to this day, and their work has expanded to include all lost and injured pokémon, not just those leftover from their days in Team Plasma." He tapped a foot angrily against the stage. "You cannot Cheri-pick who is okay and who is not on the basis of their previous relation to Neo Plasma. If you hate Lacey on the basis that she was once part of Team Plasma, then you hate all who were once part of Team Plasma. If you don't, then you are a hypocrite, and in the case of Lacey… Honestly, the fact so many of you want to hate her, given the fact all that is public knowledge on her is that she is female and was part of Team Plasma, makes me believe many of you are closest misogynists or at the very least, need to take a _very_ long look in the mirror."

Church felt almost embarrassed. "I'm kinda glad not that many people know about me and Hil's past," Church chuckled uneasily, "or else people might be realizing how personal this is…"

"Oh, I have a feeling people are gonna know anyway, just based on how pissed off he sounds," Nathan snorted. "But so, what? Hil and N are the Consuls, not them."

Before either of them could keep talking, Hil was speaking again. "Quite simply, you all are stroking a bitter director's ego and demonizing someone who stepped back from a job they enjoyed to try and help people that were chewed up and spat out by Team Plasma. Keep in mind that by volunteering at this facility, Churchill is helping every single person within it, not just Lacey. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Team Plasma had many faces. Some of them, like Ghetsis, were terrible and deserve the utmost of punishment, but most were as manipulated or abused as N. There were too many people involved in Team Plasma for us to simply blanket them all as terrible people, lock them up, and throw away the key. They will serve their time, they will answer for their crimes, and if they can, they will be rehabilitated and reintroduced into society as better human beings for it. The Silver Knights and Consul N are testaments to that. Although I do think it is wildly inappropriate for these magazines and stories to be talking about a potential romantic relationship between Elite Four Churchill and this Lacey, because that is his personal life and not any of yours, even if it ends up happening, that is _not_ yours to judge. Again, if she answers for her crimes and is rehabilitated and becomes a productive member of society, are you trying to say she is not deserving or capable of a romantic relationship because of her past? Again, hypocritical, and potentially misogynistic." Hil growled and shook his head. "I am appalled that Pokéstar Studios has allowed this to go this far. I highly recommend the immediate firing or resignation of this director for the undue suffering and slandering of Churchill Pines' name. Unlike you, I will not speak their name publicly, as they and Pokéstar Studios knows who they are, and can deal with it privately." Hil looked up then, and in that moment, Church realized that Hil wasn't reading off a card or anything of the sort.

"Did he _memorize_ this?" Church gaped.

"Yup," Nathan was still giggling, "he _absolutely_ did."

"Unless someone has proof that Elite Four Churchill Pines has assisted in active terrorist acts against the Unova Region," Hil growled at the camera, "I would like to ask that everyone put this story to rest and recognize that if Unova is to move forward, we cannot afford to keep tearing ourselves apart at the core. We must work together to overcome this. Team Plasma thrived on dividing Unovans against one another through suspicion, fear, and despair. Team Plasma is gone and dead. Let it stay that way. Work together to move forward. Thank you for your time today."

With that, the screen started to fade back to the news anchor, but Church was too stunned to care for what she had to say after that. Nathan spoke up for him. "So, about what you're gonna do about it," he snickered, "my guess is you're going to just keep doing what you were doing, and if the Plasma Corrections Facility gives you any shit for it, you get to call me! 'Cause they're not supposed to be able to deny you for stupid shit like that. That facility always needs volunteers, so they're shooting themselves in the foot, too, by telling you that you can't. And like, I don't care if you have feelings for the girl or not, man, but even if you did, I feel like you have the self-control not to go making moves on her while you're working." With a wicked grin and a mocking tone, Nathan almost sang, "You're the _saintly_ Churchill Pines, you're just _such_ a good guy!"

Still reeling in a bit of warmth at Hil's vehement defense of him, Church laughed. "I can't tell if you're complimenting or mocking me, Nathan."

"A bit of both, really."

"Hah, yeah, that sounds about right," Church chuckled, rubbing the back of his head with a free hand. "Well… uh. Damn. That… that took a lot off my shoulders. I kinda don't know what to do now. My plan was to basically just spend the rest of today stressing out about it."

Nathan raised a brow at him. "Is that always your plan whenever something goes wrong?"

"Look, you," Church pouted, "…maybe?"

"I think Hilda's planning to challenge the League again today. She's out there harassing some trainers on Victory Road. Wanna come watch me mop the floor with her? Then, tomorrow you go back out there to the Plasma Corrections Facility and tell them to shove it?"

"I'll come watch you, but about the jail… I'm pretty sure Hil already told them to shove it," Church mused. "Say, when are you gonna make a move on that Hilda girl, anyway?"

Nathan all but yelped, "What—what are you talking about?"

"She challenges you all the time. She gave you her number at one point. She likes you. You playing hard to get or something?" Church teased, cocking his head at the Xtransceiver.

"Look, you can't let her call all the shots like that," Nathan complained, "'cause then she'd think I was desperate and that she's always wearing the pants, and… it's just not gonna be like that for me. I think I'll show her why I'm Champion a few more times and then _maybe_ invite her to a party next time Hugh and I have a day off."

Personally, Church thought Nathan's rationale when it came to women was mind-boggling, but he also couldn't entirely blame him given his history; a mother who inadvertently condoned abuse by ignoring it and Rosa, who had toyed with Nathan's feelings before being revealed as a member of Neo Plasma… and not just any member, but a high-ranking one in all likelihood, associated with the chilling Dr. Colress. So, to Nathan's needlessly alpha mentality towards Hilda, Church just rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a plan… I'll get ready and head to your chambers here soon."

"See ya, Church!"

* * *

Eventually, Lacey had been released for good behavior, a full six years earlier than her sentence had called for (Church couldn't help but pride himself a bit on helping with that). She was still suspicious of the world, but Church had managed to convince her to stay with him following her release (not to mention, it wasn't like she exactly had family or friends to return to after the traumatic, all-encompassing ordeal of being one of Team Plasma's grunts). After so, so much pleading, she agreed, on a myriad of strict stipulations that Church honestly had to write down to keep up with.

Adjusting to living with Lacey was… a challenge. She was moody; some days were fantastic and went hardly without confrontation, while other days she would panic over being unable to find something as simple as a tube of toothpaste, resulting in a massive breakdown. That had certainly been an odd day… Church had been in the kitchen trying to pour himself a drink of water, and she had yelped from the bathroom, making him drop his glass in his fervor to get to her. It shattered on the floor, but he didn't care, and once he rounded the hall and wrenched open the bathroom door, he saw that she had retreated from the bathroom counter and sat on the lid of the toilet. She was shivering and hugging herself tightly, and when he opened the door unexpectedly, she jerked her head up at him and squeaked in shock, "Get out!"

"Lacey, what's wrong?" Church tenderly asked, heart pounding in his chest.

"I—I can't find it," she whimpered, bringing her knees up to her chest and burying her face against them. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just, I can't find it and…"

Such outbursts always reminded him of when he had first met her. She sounded so fearful and her harsh tone was undermined by the warbling of fright in her vocals. Her voice cracked like a middle schooler's from the turbulent swirl of emotions she desperately was trying to keep a lid on. It made his heart ache and he sighed sadly, tilting his head. "Lacey… you can't find what? I didn't even ask you to look for anything…"

"The… toothpaste…" She paused for a moment, a violet tremor passing through her body before she slowly started to unfurl from her fetal position. "You didn't…?"

"No…" He gingerly picked his way forward and then knelt in front of her, putting his hands up in a show of harmlessness. "I promise. It's okay. Look…" He smiled at her nervously. "I'm sure the toothpaste is just, misplaced somewhere, I'll help you look, alright?"

After a while, he thought perhaps bringing her to meet Hil and N would have been a good idea, considering she still fearfully referred to them as 'League Lillipup' (Church got a mixed bag of amusement and pity in his chest whenever she said that). He hoped meeting them would help put her mind at ease and show her that the core argument behind Ghetsis' methodology was flawed. N was not a heartless traitor. In fact, he was quite the opposite!

Of course, convincing her had been the hard part. She fought him tooth and nail every step of the way, and although he didn't force her, he was more than happy to nag her about it until the end of time. Eventually, she relented, under the stipulation she was allowed to leave whenever she wanted to. He had agreed and Church arranged with Hil and N a date to meet them at the center of the Pokémon League, at the statue that stood tall between all the Elite Four chambers. Nathan, Marshal, and Shauntal were there, too, as part of Church's convincing had been that others would be there, so it wasn't like she and Church would be alone with two Consuls of Unova.

It had taken all the strength in the world not to start giggling right away as she hatefully glared at the two of them at the base of that statue, and to her smoldering stare, Hil merely waved and cocked his head curiously at her. "Hey, Lacey," he lazily called, "I'm Hil."

A little more cautiously (and clasping Hil's left hand), N gingerly spoke up, "And I'm sure you know me, but… I'm N."

Their introductions weren't what was so funny, though. Lacey's immediate halt and the way she blinked at them, Church thought he could practically see the cogs turning in her head, telling him this wasn't how she had imagined her meeting with the two of them going. "Hi…" she uncertainly muttered at last, abruptly stepping so close to Church that he narrowly avoided her standing on his feet. She pressed a shoulder to him and growled at N, "So… what now? Church has been demanding I meet you two. Now what?"

"Uh, I dunno!" Hil shrugged, leaning a head over against N's right arm. "You could watch us do Consul stuff, but I imagine that'd get boring pretty fast. Then again, I dunno, watching N growl at Skyla's always pretty fun. If I didn't have to act like a leader or something, I mean…"

N's face flushed a pale shade of pink. "She can be so… combative," he huffed, "and so, so _rude…"_

"Yeah, that sounds like Skyla," Marshal guffawed as he chimed in from the sidelines.

"So, of course, the proper response is to snarl at her," Hil teased N, grinning broader and broader. "It's okay, I won't tell her what the snarls mean."

N blushed harder. "Th-they don't mean anything that bad," he weakly defended himself, "I just… get frustrated… with her… Anyway…" N took a shaky breath and concentrated on Lacey, awkwardly shuffling his feet. "We have heard a lot about you from Church, and… I just wanted to say that I am glad you have started to heal. I know that it isn't… easy."

She opened her mouth as if she intended to yell at him, but whatever she had wanted to say died in her throat, and her shoulders sagged. With one last, cautious look to Church, she nervously stepped away from him and whispered, "It… it hasn't been, no…"

That had been a major turning point in her recovery. She and N spent some time that day chattering to each other before Lacey grew too mentally weary to continue the conversation, drained from the shocking revelation that Hil and N were people, the same as she was, and not the monstrous, dark deities Ghetsis had made them out to be.

And continue to recover she did. At every breakthrough such as that, Church would get that deep-seated, rewarded feeling, that made his heart swell with happiness for her. Like one such day where he had curled up to watch a rerun of an old TV show he loved, and she had decided to join him. Up until that point, she had decidedly avoided spending idle time with him (which she had plenty of, considering Church had offered to cover her financially until she was mentally stable enough to attempt to find a job; the most taxing thing she had to do in a day was visit a psychiatrist or a therapist), but that day, something seemed to spur her on. She had cautiously tiptoed into the living area and slunk onto the couch, as if moving slow enough might have kept Church from noticing her. It had taken everything in his power not to chuckle at her and simply keep his eyes trained on the TV. He was afraid of scaring her away like a skittish Purrloin. His patience seemed to pay off, for she soon relaxed on her end of the couch and was invested in the show.

That was when Arcanine noticed her, however. Leaping from his bed on the floor, he darted over to her and clumsily threw his paws in her lap, panting wildly. She yelped at first and recoiled, but then took a deep breath and anxiously stroked the messy mop of creamy fur on the pokémon's head. Her uncertain expression shifted to one of glee as she soon brought both hands to scratch at the pokémon's neck lovingly.

"You like Arcanine, huh?" Church dared to ask after a moment of smiling and watching her like that.

Jolting, as if she had forgotten he was even there, Lacey swallowed hard and glanced at him sideways. "Yeah," she mumbled at last. "Reminds me of Mightyena…"

Church winced. Her Mightyena, along with all of her other pokémon, had been confiscated long ago and given to the Silver Knights in a bid to find their rightful, original owners. Even if the pokémon's original trainers had never been found, it was most likely that they had been adopted out in the time since then. Even so… Watching her play with Arcanine gave him an idea. With a smug grin to himself, he turned back to the TV. He could practically feel her eyes narrow at him.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Because you've got no idea what I'm thinking about."

With some vitriol, she growled, "And why's that something to smile about?"

Oh, he knew she didn't like surprises, but he thought she might have liked that one. Regardless, he laughed and turned an easygoing smile on her. "You'll like it, I promise. I want to get you something."

That earned him an unceremonious glare and with a huff, she shoved Arcanine off her and retreated to her bedroom. Normally, he would have felt bad about scaring her like that, and admittedly, he was a bit sad that she wouldn't watch the rest of that episode with him, but he couldn't wait to see her face when he carried out his plan.

After a few phone calls and a few weeks passed, Church arrived back at his chambers in the Pokémon League with her, after taking her to one of her therapy appointments, only to find a man in a green uniform waiting outside the League's main entrance. There was a black pokémon carrier at his feet. With a relived smile, he waved at Church. "Oh, Church! I was almost worried I'd missed you!"

"No, sorry, I was just running a little late," Church laughed.

"Who's he?" Lacey asked cagily, cutting her eyes at him suspiciously.

"That's Fred," Church snickered, "he's a friend. I promise."

"We'll see about that."

He couldn't help but rolling his eyes at her some as he greeted the pokémon breeder, who Church had paid to travel from the southwestern corner of Unova to deliver a most special pokémon. After a brief chat and the signing of some papers, Fred clapped his hands and leaned down to open the small carrier at his side. Once the gate popped open, no pokémon came out, but once he started to raise and shake the carrier slightly, there was a slight whimper and a Poochyena then scurried out, wobbily stepping away from its previous confinement. Church immediately leaned down and scooped the little one up. It was only eight weeks old and was clearly afraid of the strange, new place it found itself in.

"A Poochyena?" Lacey curiously asked, gawking at the pokémon in his arms.

"Yeah," Church beamed. Hesitating before he explained the next part, he rubbed the Poochyena's head reassuringly and turned back to the breeder. "Thank you again, man, for traveling all this way and delivering this one for me. I know just sending the Poké Ball would've been easier, but… Well, anyway. Thanks!"

Fred shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips as he said, "Doesn't bother me none. See you!" Church could practically hear him tacking on at the end, 'Considering all you paid to have me come deliver it to you,' and he resisted chuckling in amusement. There had been a reason for all the hassle, however. As soon as Fred was out of earshot and he was sure nobody else was nearby, Church leaned toward Lacey and grinned. "Now, I know you're not allowed to own pokémon… but there's no reason I can't catch this one in a Poké Ball and you just hang out with her, is there? I'll own her, but she'll really be yours. I mean… you obviously can't go in any League matches or anything with her, but—"

Lacey snatched the Poochyena from his arms and squealed in delight, cutting him off. "She's so cute!" she announced triumphantly, hugging the fluffy Poochyena tightly, who whimpered after a moment and struggled to get out of her grasp, but when Lacey took no notice and kissed her on the forehead, she relaxed and her tiny tail started to flail in nervous excitement.

"Haha, I take it you like her, then?" Church teased.

"Thank you, Church!" Lacey called out, her voice muffled as she had her face pressed against the Poochyena's fur. "I love her!"

 _Good… I think a new start's just all you need._ Satisfied with her reaction, Church gently reached a hand to touch her shoulder. "I'm so glad, Lacey," he softly told her, "but let's get back to my chambers. Then, you can enjoy her all you want and really get to know her. I'm sure she's a bit scared out here, she's been traveling a lot."

Indeed, learning to live with Lacey and learning about her took patience and baby steps, but Church was good at both of those. Even Victini came around to like her after a while, and after she received Poochyena—who she later nicknamed Faith—she seemed to come out of her shell faster and faster. Her therapist remarked on her progress and she grew to enjoy spending time with Church more and more. Her outbursts became less frequent and less explosive whenever they did occur. As for Church? Well…

After nearly seven years of working with Lacey, it dawned on him one morning that it had been a long, long time since he had felt sad over Hil, and that their friendship since he had met Lacey had been full of laughs and fun times, rather than the consistent push and pull of pain and pleasure it had been beforehand. It shocked him to realize that he and Hil worked so much better as simple friends and simultaneously, the realization that he cared deeply for Lacey snuck up on him like a riptide at a beach. He couldn't remember when he had first started feeling so strongly for her; just that he had always wanted to help her, and despite all of her demons—and she certainly had plenty, not every day with her was so pretty—he loved her deeply and wouldn't have traded it for anything. She gave him a purpose, kept him occupied, and there were rare moments where she made it clear she saw him as the safest person in the world…

Like one evening where she had curled up to him late in the evening to watch a movie in the dark with him, Faith curled in their laps. She rarely would have done that, but that evening, she hadn't only joined him, but had fallen asleep with his arm wrapped around her. Or, so he had thought. When he smiled at her and chuckled to himself about getting a blanket for her, she had mumbled, "Don't worry, don't need one…"

"You sure?" he asked her softly. "There's one on the back of the couch…"

"No… You're pretty warm," she yawned. Comforted at that, Church had settled back in to finish up the movie, then was taken by surprise as she quietly added, "Church… I think I love you. I know I've still got a lot to learn… But I just… I'm so glad you never gave up on me… Back in prison, at therapy, even in the League… I've met so many different people and none of them ever made me feel like a person like you do…"

He had absolutely melted at that and hadn't known what to say to it at all. Stuttering a bit, he almost mewled, "Aww, Lacey… I'm… I'm glad… I love you, too." _Though I'm a lot less glad she's still so uncomfortable around others…_

He and Lacey still had a long way to go and honestly, he wasn't sure if her recovery would ever quite be over, but he was so glad to help her as much as he could. He didn't mind the slowness of their relationship… In a way, that relieved him, and it was a far cry from the hormone-fueled chaos of when he and Hil had been together. For a relationship that had brought him to tears countless times in the past, he almost wanted to laugh at it, then. For all the hell he and Hil had dragged the other through, they had taught each other so much for it, and Church fully believed they were better people for it. Their rocky, occasionally heated romance had taught him that he preferred something slower and more certain—like he and Lacey were.

After so much time, he finally was someone's number one, and she was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'MFINALLYDONEWITHTHISGODFORSAKENONESHOT


	11. Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan might be seeing things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: 10+ years after the end of Black 2 (not sure exactly of when)  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Strong language, implied/referenced child abuse (WARNING: mostly at the beginning in a flashback), implied/referenced sexual content, hurt/comfort  
> Characters: Nathan (Nate), Rosa, Colress, Churchill (Church), Zeshi (Nathan's Zoroark), Nate's dad  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

"You do love me, don't you, son?"

Nate was squarely staring down the TV on his wall. There was nothing that could have broken that determined stare. It was one of his favorite shows, a cartoon about a Purrloin and a Lillipup that had been sent to live with a grandparent in a mysterious city nobody had ever heard of, deep in a secretive, unknown region. Maribelle and Ripper, that was their names. "Yes," he answered offhandedly to his father, sitting at the far end of his bed. Despite his intent focus on the screen, though, he held his comforter tight against his chest and found it hard to really absorb anything anyone was saying on the TV screen…

"Mm. Why won't you pay some attention to me, then? I… I need your help, don't you know?"

Nate was silent for a long moment but his vision glazed over as he saw the small numbers appear at the bottom of the screen, signaling his father had turned the volume down, to the point it was difficult to even hear that there was audio at all to go with the cartoon. He didn't like that at all… He liked Maribelle's voice. She was soothing and sweet. Much better than his father's voice, which was scary and gruff.

"Nate?"

He clutched the blanket tighter. "I know… can I please watch the TV, though…? I can't hear it…" he asked in a voice hardly above a whisper.

"I can't hear you," his father practically purred as Nate felt a hand run over his left thigh, over the blankets, but still. "Speak up for me, please. What was that, Nate?"

It felt as if his voice had died in his throat, so he couldn't reply. His focus on the show lost, he was forced to think about the reality of the situation. He had just turned thirteen the other day… He had hoped his father's late evening visits might have stalled for longer than just a handful of days as they usually did follow his birthday, but it was already becoming quite clear that would not be the case. After a few awkward seconds, his father's hand moved further up, and Nate's body tensed instinctively as a bolt of panic shot up his spine. "Wait," he yelped, scrambling to think of some kind of excuse, anything to try to logic his way out, "I just… I don't see how this is helpful to you, Dad…"

"Oh?" his father scooted closer, or so he thought, given the way his weight shifted on the bed and the way it gave a light squeak. "You don't remember how this helps me? Come on, boy, surely you remember… I can, of course, remind you of how this helps me, just let me show you."

He felt the blood drain from his face, and he started desperately at the cartoon even though he couldn't hear it. Why did helping his father have to be so humiliating and painful? Not to mention, part of him was convinced it wasn't helpful at all… at least, not in the way that required help, anyway. But this was just the way it was, right? This wasn't wrong. He was normal. Everything was normal. No, no, no, there was nothing _wrong_ about the way that hand—

"Nathan! _Nathan!_ Wake up!" a female voice interrupted them. The world around Nate started to distort and corrupt with streaks of black, inky darkness.

"No! I don't want to help you!" Nathan snarled blindly, shooting upright in a bed. Of course, nowadays, in the comfort of his own room, there was nothing above his bed as there had been back in the hostel rooms he had once stayed in throughout Unova. The most he did as he shot out of bed was throw a pillow in the floor and scrabble nails along the wall beside his bed. Yet, when he blinked his eyes and recognized the interior of his bedroom, he found Zeshi looking up at him worriedly, panting, from the foot of his bed. Spacey, his Samurott, was standing next to his bed with a shell-hewn sword drawn preemptively, looking around wildly for whatever had startled her trainer so. Bitty, his Sunflora, who he kept roaming freely in his home, turned from where she was situated in the windowsill, cocking her head at him groggily.

"Nathan," Zeshi's voice entered his head slowly, "are you okay? I'm sorry it took me so long…"

Clenching his jaw, Nathan gripped the comforters over himself tightly, and curled his lip as he looked down at his white knuckles. "It's fine, Zeshi, it shouldn't be your job to be my midnight mental bodyguard," he muttered back at her. A swirl of turbulence in his chest propelled him to toss those blankets off and hop out of bed, smoothing his messy hair, shaking out his clothes to try to air out the sheen of sweat that had been produced from his nightmare. Yet, as quickly as the anger had manifested itself, it seemed to dissipate all at once, and Nathan flopped down into a swiveling computer chair at a desk near the foot of his bed. Leaning over the desk, he clutched fistfuls of his hair and hung his head, letting his forehead hit the wooden surface. Frustrated, he let go of his hair with one fist, and then slammed it against the desk, making the laptop, pen holder, and various other trinkets jostle and jump. "Shouldn't need anything like that at _all,"_ he spat at the desk despite the lump building in his throat. In a much smaller, more pathetic tone, he whimpered, "Over a decade later and _still,_ these stupid nightmares! He doesn't even _exist_ anymore! I don't _understand!"_

"Nathan…" Zeshi nudged his leg, causing him to flinch, but he knew it was her, so he relaxed almost immediately. "That's not your fault… You can't just… be angry at it until it goes away. That's not how that works…"

"Then how?" Nathan demanded sharply.

Zeshi was quiet for a moment. "Nathan… we do this every time…" She whined and pawed at his leg. "I'm sorry that we… we can't fix it, but…"

He felt something touch his other leg and he flinched again, jerking his head to look at who it was. Spacey had put her sword away and, balanced on her nose, she offered him his Xtransceiver. He stared at it dumbly for a minute. A device that he had once loathed, that Spacey had even broken to get him freedom from his father, was one she now delivered to him because she knew this was not the same one as all those years ago, and this one connected him to friends. Friends far and wide that would never so much as hope to hurt him. Shakily, he raised a hand to accept Spacey's offering. Yes, he was better now than he had been all those years ago; he had a real family, even bigger than the makeshift one he had escaped that hell with back then, now.

Yet, as he went to pick up the device, it suddenly flew off Spacey's nose and hit the far wall, as if of its own accord. Nathan scrambled away, practically jumping onto the desk, and, breathing heavily, stared where the Xtransceiver had struck the wall and tumbled to the hardwood floor. Spacey growled and resumed her previous position, sword drawn, while Zeshi fluffed out all her fur and pulled her lips back into a vicious snarl. Strange shadows danced around the darkened room as violet lights lit up around her body.

"Who did that?" Nathan managed to ask at last, his voice cracking partially through. "Sp-Spacey… did you…? That wasn't funny…"

The Samurott indignantly looked over at him and growled, shaking her head.

"No," Zeshi told him, sounding distracted, as if the auditory illusion were straining her concentration, "something's wrong… I just don't know _what…"_

Everyone jerked their head to his bed as he heard the springs within the mattress squeal and a shape took form on the wrinkled and thrashed sheets. Nathan's breathing all but stopped as he recognized her voice before she even finished revealing herself. "Oh, bravo, Champion Nate," she crooned at him as she clapped softly, "you've really outdone yourself with the place." She flashed him a white smile and flitted her pretty, brown eyes at him. "Hope you don't mind, I just let myself in."

"Rosa!" Nathan breathlessly exclaimed, dropping from his desk. He didn't know whether to snarl at her, to cautiously back away, to run for his Xtransceiver—his groggy, confused mind swam as he tried to figure out what was happening. There was no way she could be there, in his room, was there? He looked over his shoulders, at the bedroom door, shocked to find it was still shut. He glanced at his window then. Bitty was still there; nothing had been moved. More than that, the security around the Pokémon League was a thousand times better than it had ever been before in the past. He knew Rosa had access to all sorts of wild abilities thanks to her partnership with her 'Dr. Colress,' but they had specifically designed protocols around the Pokémon League to combat them! How could they have _all_ failed so spectacularly?

"Oh, do relax, Nate," she teased him with a knowing wink. "You know that no security system can keep me at bay. You don't get wanted for grand larceny and robbery or what _ever_ the terms are like I do in every region without getting good at breaking and entering." She snorted and then Zeshi snarled, jumping at her with her jaws stretched open. Rosa vanished and reappeared a few feet away, and Zeshi caught a mouthful of Nathan's mattress instead. Nate staggered away from Rosa and gawked at her.

"Anyway, as I was saying," she continued as if nothing had happened at all, "it's just been so long since we had a night alone together, eh, Nate?" She cracked a lopsided grin and now, as she sauntered toward him and he backpedaled uncertainly, he could see her more clearly. He hadn't seen her but fleetingly since all that time ago, but the suit she wore then looked quite different from most he had seen her in; it was silver rather than a dark, slate gray, all except for the diamond-shaped visor that she currently had flipped up to reveal her face. Instead of a solid, gray mesh from the neck down, this suit had a more traditional plate of steel over her chest, whereas mesh covered her arms and legs. A chainmail skirt fluttered around her waist. Her brown eyes glittered as she noticed he was looking over her new, flashy suit. "Oh, Nate, you like the new outfit? You always did like how I looked, didn't you~?"

His back hit the wall where his Xtransceiver had fallen, and he bent down to snatch it up. Just as he did, Spacey threw her sword at Rosa, who vanished, leaving Spacey's sword to strike the wall behind her, and she reappeared somewhere else in the room yet again. But Spacey and Zeshi had apparently been ready; when she came into view again, they both lunged at her immediately… only for Rosa to once again disappear, leaving them both to slam into each other.

This time, she reappeared next to Nathan, clamping her hands down over his shoulders. "Oh, poor, sweet, Nate," she whined in his ear, "do relax, it's all only temporary. I'm just here for a visit. It doesn't take long, don't you know?"

He whirled away from her and held out his Xtransceiver, as if it were somehow a weapon, and glared at her. "Stay away from me!" he screamed, feeling as if he might faint. "How did you get in here? Why are you here? What do you want from me? What's _wrong_ with you?"

"That's sure a lot of questions, hon," Rosa dramatically groaned, throwing her head back. "Won't you be a good little ace of hearts, make this easy for me, and just calm down?"

"I'm nothing of yours, don't call me by one of your stupid card names!" he bristled, baring his teeth at her. He abruptly decided he didn't care what she was doing. Why had he cared in the first place? This was Rosa. She was wrong, she was evil, she was a horrible person, a murderer, a cheat—the girl who had turned out to love causing chaos for the sheer joy of causing chaos. That was all there was to it. "Get out! Now!" With that, he pulled the Xtransceiver close and started dialing for the emergency number, the one that would send guards straight into his home without him so much as needing to speak to someone.

"Oh, you want to involve other people?" Rosa asked brightly, perking up in amusement. "Why, I didn't take you for the type, Mr. Tough as Nails! Isn't that what they call you now?" She frowned and raised a brow. "How cute. I wonder if they'd still think you were 'tough as nails' if they could see you now… or if they _knew."_ She grinned wolfishly and advanced on him as he finished dialing the number.

"Knew what, Rosa?" Nathan snapped, growing tired of her games. "That you're a psychopath? Too bad, I think everyone already knows that!"

"Oh, no," she laughed, "I just wonder if they would think you're still tough as nails if they saw how desperate you are for attention, truly. See, I remember a few things Daddy said, Nate." She giggled and clasped her hands together in front of herself, and the diamond-shaped visor on her mask flipped down, those white, soulless, digital eyes lighting up, giving her an even more unnerving appearance. Practically singing in a roboticized voice, she mused, "And considering how you melted for me in seconds all that time ago, part of me wonders if you're really just that needy, deep down. Get you in the right mood and oh, you're as easy as they come, aren't you? Tell me, Nathan… is there anything you're thirsty for?"

"Stop it!" Nathan howled, dropping the Xtransceiver and digging his nails into his scalp until he felt the sting of the pain. "Stop it, stop it, stop it, leave me _alone!_ Why? What do you want?!"

"Nathan… she's gone," Zeshi's voice told him quietly. He looked up after a second and saw that she was, in fact, gone. Of course, for all he knew… she had merely turned invisible again. Shivering, he looked around and saw Zeshi and Spacey limping away from one another and toward him. They had apparently struck one another harder than he had given them credit for. Zeshi whimpered and pawed at her head as she plunked down in front of him. "I don't sense her at all, I think she's really gone… She had someone else with her that you couldn't see."

"Shadow Triad," Nathan whispered. He sank back against the wall as his bedroom door shot open, and an Arcanine was the first in the room, barking and looking around wildly. Such an intrusion might have gotten him to panic a few seconds ago, but in that moment, he felt too shocked or… perhaps numb to react at all as Church's Arcanine turned to him and started to reassuringly lick him once he was sure the room was clear.

Church entered the room immediately after and dropped down next to Nathan. "Nathan, are you okay? What's wrong?" he asked urgently, examining his surroundings cautiously as he spoke.

"Rosa," was all Nathan was able to choke out as he slowly curled into a ball, bringing his knees close to his chest and clamping his arms over his face. Yes, numb, that was the only way to describe how he felt right then. "Rosa was here…"

"R-Rosa?" Church echoed dumbly, looking around frantically again as if that might change the fact he hadn't seen anyone. Zeshi cocked her head and the way she expressively flicked her ears and moved her head told Nathan she was speaking to Church. Nodding, Church turned back to Nathan and went to touch his shoulder.

Nathan cringed and curled harder into his ball, to the point he could no longer see outside of himself. As soon as Church's hand met him, he felt a cold chill ripple through his body, one that made him feel like he wanted to vomit, one that made all his muscles tighten painfully. "Don't touch me!" he snarled, muffled by himself.

"Nathan…" Church withdrew his hand immediately, and there was a pause as Nathan heard more footsteps. "Out," Church ordered whoever else had entered the room. "I've got this under control, thanks."

"You're not the only one that answers these calls, Churchill Pines, these are for the qualified officers to answer as well as any available Elite Four—"

"And yet I rank higher than you and I'm telling you _I have this under control,"_ Church cut them off brusquely, in a rude tone so unlike himself. "Champion Nathan isn't feeling well and made the call by mistake. He'd like to be alone. _Thank_ you."

Feeling as if he was going to cry, Nathan remained silent until he heard the drum of footsteps come to an end and his door shut. "You lied," Nathan mumbled, lifting his head just enough so that Church could hear him. "Why didn't you tell them about Rosa?"

"Telling them about Rosa would mean they'd have kicked you out of here and taken you somewhere tiny, alone, until they finished sweeping the League for her, and frankly, I don't know if trying to find her is a good idea anyway… You know what happens when we send people after her and Colress… And you need friends right now, not solitude."

Tensing furiously, Nathan felt his nails dig into his scalp again as he jerked his head up, and he shot at Church, cruelly, "You're not my father! You don't get to just tell me what I _need,_ Church!"

Church flinched at the unexpected outburst, instinctively raising a hand in front of himself. "No, I'm not your father," Church softly replied after taking a moment to regain his composure. Nathan's anger faltered as he saw Church smile sadly. "I'm your friend, and you've obviously had a _really_ bad night… I'm going to tell everyone that Rosa was here, but I'm not doing that right this second… Nathan, you know how she is… She just shows up to rile people up whenever she's not getting along with that scientist friend of hers… But I will say, she usually… usually leaves _you_ alone… Did something _else_ happen tonight…?"

He concernedly furrowed his brow at Nathan, and Nathan just sharply looked away, at the Xtransceiver in his palm. He bit his lower lip and then shook his head. "Had a nightmare. That's it."

"C'mon," Church insisted, sitting down a couple of feet away from him, "you know that's never _just_ 'it.'"

"I had a nightmare," Nathan repeated, this time, staring Church directly in his green eyes, inwardly hoping he'd get the message. After a confused second, Church seemed to understand; he winced and sighed, his Arcanine sympathetically laying at his side and nudging him with his muzzle. Nathan growled in frustration and shot his left fist at the floor. The loud smack was followed by pain blooming in his palm, but he didn't care. "I am the Champion of Unova, I've put in so many systems to help people with shit like I went through, I've helped Hil and N get so much passed, I have three legendary pokémon at my side, a pokémon that controls illusions, and I have vowed to protect everyone as long as I breathe! Nothing should still be getting to me like this! Nothing! Not Rosa and especially not my father, considering he's _dead!_ When will I be strong enough?!"

Frustrated nearly to the point of tears, Nathan curled back into a ball, blotting out the rest of the world. He didn't feel like the valiant, iron-willed protector he had proclaimed himself to be in that moment, even with the anger and sadness filling his chest that made him feel like he would fight the world given the chance. Not to mention, he was utterly fracturing there in front of Church, who he knew had better things to be doing than listening to him rant, like comforting his partner, Lacey, who he was sure would be upset by Church disappearing in the middle of the night to help him. She had a genuine reason to need reassurance like this. She had been a prisoner of Team Plasma for eight years, had been brainwashed and manipulated and tortured. And him? Well… Had he even seen Rosa? There was no trace of her. Zeshi had vouched for him, he supposed… or had she? …Did Church think he was crazy?

"Strong enough to what?" Church asked quietly once he was sure Nathan was done. "Strong enough to fight your own brain? Strong enough to fight enemies you can't see half the time all alone?"

"Yes!" Nathan retorted, muffled. "Yes! It shouldn't matter! I've finally got th-the family I always wanted, and I have Unova, and I have myself, safe and sound, and—and—and I should be able to guard it against _anything!_ I have all I—"

"Nathan, stop it," Church tiredly sighed. "Just… just stop it. You can't fight _everything._ That's just not how this works."

"Then I can't ever be safe," Nathan all but whimpered, feeling his muscles start to sag under his own weight. Everything just felt so… heavy… "Then… then nobody can ever really be safe."

"No. They can't. You can't keep everyone safe all the time, forever." Church grunted and Nathan heard the shifting of fabric, as if he were moving closer. "But Nathan, nobody has ever been as safe as they have under your championship before. You're safer than ever before, just like you said, your father's not even here anymore. We'll find out what we can about how Rosa got in here, and we'll take every precaution that we can to keep it from happening again… If Rosa had actually attacked you, I am confident you would have defended yourself just fine, Nathan…" He trailed off and after an uncomfortable pause, he added, "You can't fight everything in the way you're thinking. I know you're not good with words, but that's the only way you win these battles. Stop telling yourself you have to be the best at defending and tell yourself you're good at it _now…_ because there is _no such thing_ as best. You'll drown yourself chasing your own tail, Nathan."

"If I'm so much better now," Nathan asked hoarsely, still muffled, "then why do I feel the same as I did back then all over again? Every now and again, these awful nights, where it's just as bad as before…"

"Because you're human," Church laughed softly. "And… you've been through some fucked up shit, I'm not gonna lie to you. That's never going to change and you're probably always going to have nights like this, man… But think of all the _good_ nights. I'm sure you have so many more of those now… don't you?"

Nathan let out an ugly snort at hearing Church cuss, given that wasn't exactly common, which was followed by another, irritated groan. Surely, he wasn't in a good enough mood to be amused! Still, he thought about what else Church had said, and he begrudgingly raised his head and nodded. He couldn't argue with that; even as awful as the night had been, he wouldn't have traded where he was now for the way his life functioned years and years ago for anything. "Y-yeah… guess you are right about that."

Church nodded slowly and nervously ran a hand through his red hair, brushing a small clump of it out of his face. "And, uh… if it would make you feel better, you can come chill with me and Lacey for the night. In the guestroom, you know…"

Nathan cautiously raised a brow at him. "Won't Lacey freak out…?" Lacey was the type of person to never forget, and Nathan hadn't exactly made a great impression on her when he had first met her, not to mention, Nathan himself wasn't renowned for his patience. He wasn't proud of it, but he had snapped at her on occasion since then (which usually resulted in Church snapping at him, too), and he knew he was far from her favorite person.

"She knows you're my friend and that you mean well," Church reassured him. "She'll be okay. Just…" He narrowed his green eyes at Nathan and said in a warningly tense tone, "Just be _nice_ if you have to interact with her, you know."

Nathan looked down, feeling a small bolt of shame. "You must think I've gone mad… Rosa's not even here, and, and… some champion I am, needing to come stay with my friend like a spooked little kid after a nightmare…"

"Even a champion needs to take care of himself sometimes," Church shrugged, moving to stand up again. He reached a hand to Nathan, offering to help him stand up, and cracked a brilliant smile. "And I don't think you've gone mad. I feel like you've forgotten I've seen Rosa's crazy stunts she can pull." He grimaced. "I know _why_ all these specific precautions for Rosa and Colress were put into place…"

Silencing his internal critic, Nathan accepted Church's hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet. A wave of exhaustion hit him, and he yawned, a wide, powerful yawn. He would never admit it, not out loud, but he truly appreciated Church's kind, judgment-free assistance. This was not the first dark night he had come to help Nathan with, and Nathan was sure it wouldn't be the last, unfortunately. "Thanks, Church…" He wearily shook his head. _With friends like you, who needs a blood family, anyway?_ he wanted to say, to weakly joke, but his pride wouldn't let him.

Grunting, Church nodded. "Any time."

 _I don't know what I'd ever do without him,_ Nathan thought to himself as he started to gather a few things to head to Church's for the remainder of the evening. _Hell, I don't know what any of us would do without him…_ He shot the redhead a fleeting glance as he collected his Poké Balls from his nightstand.

 _Good thing we've still got a long time with him then, huh? I intend to make_ sure _of it. Rosa will_ never _beat me down—or anyone else, for that matter._

* * *

Back in that dingy hotel room, Rosa reappeared next to the bed, and she easily undid her metallic suit. Wordlessly, too, all knowing that Colress was curled up silently in the bed behind her. Oh, but she knew he wasn't asleep, even though the TV, the computers on the nearby desk, everything was off and silent in the room. Once she was left in just her comfortable T-shirt and shorts, she climbed into the bed after him, possessively looping her left arm over him as she slipped into place next to him. She heard him grunt slightly from the suddenness of her touch, and she curled her lip as she harshly whispered into his ear, "Do you see how easy it is for me to function without you now?"

"With my inventions," he reminded her in a deadpan, refusing to turn his head to look at her. The sensor projecting from his head pulsed with electricity.

"Your inventions that I can take and leave with," she growled, digging her nails into his shoulder, fury fluttering in her heart. He had threatened her one too many times with violence and that was what had inspired her visit to Nathan. Rather than stand for Colress' brutality, she had screamed at him that she could get anyone she so pleased, that he should have felt grateful to have her, and so, before he could tell them otherwise about listening to her, she had snarled for the Shadow Triad to take her to Nathan's, all while she kept the camera on the chest of her suit rolling. One she knew Dr. Colress had access to on the panels of his labcoat, one she knew he would be watching, given how jealous he could be. She almost purred, "You are _nothing_ without me, Dr. Colress, and you know it, especially after all these years. Don't test me."

He stiffened and then abruptly tore his shoulder out of her grasp. "Don't touch me," he grumbled, still sounding quiet and uninterested in her.

Of course, that couldn't be right, so she immediately snatched his shoulder back and before he had a chance to complain, she bit his earlobe, shocking him into falling still. Letting go once she was sure he wouldn't move, she huskily, but somehow almost desperately, murmured in his ear, "Oh, don't be like that, Dr. Colress…" With that, she drew her hand up and down his arm, lightly, teasingly, in that way she knew would liven all his senses and make him get goosebumps. "You love it when I touch you, and I love it, too…" Feeling a small bunch of emotion rise in her throat in panic, not understanding his lack of a reaction, she whimpered, "And I miss you. Please… I don't want to fight. Do you really want to fight…? I could get anyone I want, but I choose you. I always come back to you… I just want to know you love me, too, Dr. Colress, and I didn't want to get hurt earlier…"

At that, he seemed to begin to melt in her grasp, and he shifted uncomfortably before slowly moving to cover his face with his right arm. "Mm, that… that does make sense, Miss Rosa… I am sorry. I… I never _mean_ to hurt you… I do not understand why I do that… You know that, yes?"

"Of course, I do," she whispered, "but… sometimes, you do hurt me… and you don't listen to reason."

His voice faltered as he choked, "I… don't really know what reason _is_ with you, Miss Rosa."

Starting to worry about why he was acting so strangely and not turning to face her and love on her as he usually did once she started to smooth things over with him, Rosa moved so she could lean over him slightly, and kiss him. "Then, let me remind you," she teasingly said, winking at him. Innocently batting her eyes after, she added, "Please…?"

He watched her for a second, then finally, gave a familiar, soft smile, straining his neck to kiss her back. "I am glad you are back, Miss Rosa," he puffed at her once she broke the kiss after a few seconds. He sounded so tired… but that was okay. It was late, after all. Surely, that was it.

 _I'm glad you're back, too,_ she thought, relieved, as she beamed back at him. _You… were acting really odd there for a minute… I never want you to act like that again…_ "Glad to be back, Dr. Colress…~"


	12. Wild and Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Nathan's most liberating days… even if it came to haunt him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: During Black 2 ("All's Fair in Love and War")  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, inexplicit (for the most part… nothing's described in gratuitous detail, it's not porn) sexual content, hurt/comfort.
> 
> Also, sidenote, this is REALLY short because uh… there's just not that much to say about it. I just felt like expressing this overwhelming genuine gratefulness Nate would have had for Rosa back during this scene in All's Fair in Love and War that I ended up not fully writing out in the main story because I didn't want it to be totally clear whether they had, uh, done much of anything just yet. But also it was kind of therapeutic for me (pardon me if this is a little TMI) because I remember fully expecting my first sexual encounter to be something to suffer through but something I just had to 'get over.' It was not like that at all and that boy is still my partner almost 3 years later. I mean, obviously, Rosa is not the same in the story lol but that wasn't exactly the focus of this. More the focus on Nate realizing it wasn't always just this horrible thing that just happens sometime but actually can be something quite beautiful. Uhhh… anyway I'll stop pouring my heart on how I think sex can be kinda romantic on a fanfiction website now lmfao.
> 
> Still full disclaimer that Rosa is not a genuine partner and by no means am I trying to glorify her lowkey using Nate here to get at Colress hahaha.  
> Characters: Nathan (Nate), Rosa  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

Yet, he had still been so thirsty for something…

One might have wondered how Nate could have been so caught up with Rosa given the current situation of the world, with all that had just occurred less than a day prior—but they were not him. They wouldn't have understood how freeing Rosa's touch and invitation for affection was. So distracted and determined to prove to himself (and her) that he was not that same scared, broken boy from before, that his father's insidious touch had not tainted him for life, he didn't care about the fact Rosa's Emboar was still present even as things progressed from mere kissing to more handsy roaming and lusty pants for breath. A few times, he paused and anxiously asked her if everything was okay, and each time, she looked back up at him with just as round, uncertain eyes, but nodded, swallowing hard and smiling nervously up at him. She'd say he was fine, that although she was nervous, she was happy with the way things were progressing with him.

As they ended up lying on the bed, with him pressed hard against her still-clothed body, even as his hands snaked their way beneath her arms and ghosted over her chest, there were so many words he tried to internally describe this encounter with. It felt strangely innocent and beautiful— _safe_ —even though she was stammered nervously in a whine for more, and he was flustered and hot in all the right places. He didn't know just how far she intended to go, but he was ready to follow her to the ends of the earth if it meant chasing that enticing, sensual feeling.

He had never known loving could hurt so nicely—and, well, he knew 'hurt' wasn't the appropriate phrase for what he was feeling, but as it progressed from heavy petting and kisses to her anxiously asking if he wanted to take things a step further, all he could think was how _mindblowing_ it was to know something so intimate could _do_ anything other than hurt. Her questioning him on what he wanted, mostly allowing him to take the lead, oh, how new and refreshing and exciting and _alluring_ it all was…

At one point, as he looked over her soft, bare image beneath him, he thought she looked _so_ beautiful and he would have loved to have framed that moment forever. Perhaps he had gotten to awkwardly staring for too long, because she soon flushed deep crimson and grimaced uncomfortably. "Ah… i-is something wrong?" she asked cautiously, blinking fervently.

"N-no," Nate had sputtered immediately, _"Arceus,_ no. Just… you look amazing," he lamely offered. Laughing softly as he leaned down to touch his bare chest to hers as he nervously kissed her, he corrected himself. "What I mean is, I just… I can't believe how amazing this is. How amazing you are…"

He failed to notice the guilty hesitation in her movements before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly back. "You're such a great guy," she whispered into his ear. "You deserve so much good…"

He cracked a slightly smug grin to himself and lovingly kissed her again, this time along her jawline. He had only ever seen that in movies (well, in the few seconds it took him to scramble to get the remote to skip past intimate scenes such as that, anyway) and had always wondered why people liked doing or receiving attention like that at all. Needless to say, he understood then. Everything just made so much more sense and oh, again, just how _sweet_ it all felt… "It's a good thing I have you here, now, then, huh?" he teasingly quipped at her. Of course, he quickly lost his nerve and unsteadily asked her, "Ah… so, now… now what…?"

She had paused and then gently pushed him up from her just a bit. "Well… do you want to do more…?" she asked with an almost shy coyness, one that just drove him _wild_ and made him just _ache_ for more.

He nodded briskly and leaned back down again, not wanting to be away from her warmth, and replied, "Yes… I do, Rosa…"

She ran fingers through his hair and hummed sensually. "H-hah, I th-think I'd like more, too…" Then, a nervous, genuine chuckle. "Though, um… I've never actually done this before, so… we may need to, uh, experiment some…"

He had just shifted his weight over her excitedly and kissed her gingerly. "That's okay," he playfully replied as he twirled a lock of her hair in a free hand. "I'm okay with that, if you are… I'm glad to be doing it with you, anyway…" He sighed contentedly, just… inundated with that flood of positivity, which made it so easy to ignore the fluttering of nerves.

At that, she had faltered, then grinned widely, as if surprised. "Really…?" She sheepishly looked away. "I'm, um, glad it's with you, too…"

Oh, how wonderful it would have been if such a beautiful memory could have remained so pristine…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is partially inspired by the song 'Wild' by Troye Sivan.


	13. Purple Wasn't His Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Red and Blue as kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Looong time before any of the Retold stories, including before Red, as Red is technically the first (chronologically speaking).  
> Setting: Kanto  
> Notes: Fluff, friends, tiiiny amount of angst, however also some ableism against Red's deafness  
> Characters: Redmond (Red), Gary (Blue)  
> Prerequisite Reading: Red (just like the little note at the start of the story, though, as this takes place before that story begins)

Red was quite proud of himself. For one, he had managed to successfully sneak from home—doing that was a lot harder when one couldn't hear how much noise they were or weren't making—and for another, he felt the reason for his secretive departure was more than reasonable. Maybe not to his worrisome mother, but he felt that it was.

Pallet Town was a lot bigger than many gave it credit for. He knew it was still a small town in comparison to others he had heard of, but it still was easy to quickly wind his way out of sight of his home, and a couple rows of homes down, he came across that familiar, picture-perfect home, complete even with a partial white picket fence and almost unnaturally green, lush grass. He passed by some people along the way who stopped to stare and likely whisper to one another about him, but ultimately, he just skirted past them. Oh, he was sure someone would recognize him and report back to his mother before long, but that was alright. He'd nearly finished what he had set out to do, anyway.

Knocking on the door, he was greeted soon after by a young woman with soft, dusky hair. She flitted round, brown eyes at him and then said something Red couldn't put together based on her lip movements. He recognized her as Gary's older sister, Daisy, but he hadn't interacted with her nearly enough to get used to the way she formed words yet. That was the downside of having to basically be a Kecleon and adjusting to every individual person he met by sighting and memorizing the way their mouths moved. It took a while before he could be fairly confident he was sure he knew what the other was saying (knowing this made it quite aggravating whenever someone would get frustrated with him for failing to keep up, especially if they were new to him). Hoping Daisy wouldn't be like that, though, he gave a nervous smile and wave, and then tried to mouth out that he had come to see Gary.

After narrowing eyes at him and saying yet more that he didn't understand, she stepped back and raised her chin toward a staircase leading up the home. He realized after a moment that she must have been hollering for someone—hopefully, Gary, in that case. His prayers were answered when the boy with wild, apricot-colored hair came bounding down the steps, nearly tripping over himself at the last step. He caught himself ungraciously, and rapidly shot something at his sister, before giving Red a slackjawed grin.

"How did you pull this off?" Gary signed with that teasing grin still spread across his face. "Your mother let you walk over here all on your own?"

Red rolled his eyes. "Finally was able to get out without making noise to alert her," he signed back. "But that's not what I'm here for!"

Daisy crossed her arms and glowered at them both. She pointedly tapped Gary on the shoulder and raised a brow at him, saying something.

"Oh, he's fine," Gary told her in response (Red was far more used to his friend's way of formulating words). "I promise." At Daisy's unconvinced scowl, Gary frustratedly crossed his arms and gave her an equally as disapproving glare. "He's deaf, Daisy, don't be dumb. How would he have gotten over here without help? I'm sure his mom's nearby somewhere."

As if admitting defeat, Daisy shrugged and turned around, leaving them alone at last.

"Sorry," Gary immediately apologized as he turned back to Red, rubbing the back of his head. Switching back to signing, he said, "I don't mean to make it sound like you can't go anywhere alone. Daisy was just asking why you were here alone. If I told her that you snuck out, she'd probably freak."

Feeling a twinge of irritation (because while Gary may have not meant anything ill toward him, he knew there were plenty of people in Pallet who truly believed he was as helpless as an infant despite being fourteen), Red just briskly shook his head. "Never mind," he quickly signed back, "I wanted to give you something."

That caught Gary's attention. He tilted his head slightly. "Huh? Like what?" he mouthed curiously.

Red shouldered the worn-out backpack from his back, and deftly opened the front pocket. Retrieving a Poké Ball, he zipped it back up and tossed the bag back over his shoulder. In the palm of his hand was a standard Poké Ball, save for the fact the red half had been painted an almost teal, sea-blue color. The black stripe had also been recolored, as more of a pale gold than black. Almost nervously—why did Red feel so nervous about this?—he rolled it around in his palm. Gary stared and then slowly held his hands out, to which Red dropped it in his grasp. Feeling an almost panicky need to explain himself, Red more flailed than signed, "So, you know those 'dumb' classes they stuck me in? They have us do a lot of art stuff since I guess I'm not"—Red paused and mockingly drew his lips into a sneer— _"smart_ enough to do the _everything else,_ but I remember you saying how you thought the blue on the Great Ball was really ugly, and… uh… they gave us Poké Balls to design in the class and…" Red frowned and paused slightly. "I figured you could use it, you know, once you start traveling… It's still a regular Poké Ball, but, yeah…" _Since I know I'll not be allowed to._ His lip twitched a little mischievously _. Not yet, anyway… I'll find a way. But not yet._

"Whoa, you made this?" Gary mouthed excitedly, examining the Poké Ball in his grip. "It's really nice! I mean, I did think the Great Ball blue was ugly, but I didn't know you really took that to heart." He laughed and clutched the ball in his right hand, holding it out as if he were about to throw it out for battle, and he bent his knees in a poised stance. "And it is nicer than a regular Poké Ball, too. Blue's better than red, anyway," he taunted.

"Oh, really?" Red mouthed back, tensing his muscles, too. "Says who, huh?"

Gary lightly tapped the button on the center of the Poké Ball on Red's forehead, much to his surprise. Snickering to himself as he withdrew his hand, he joked, "Huh, guess you're not a pokémon, after all."

"Alright, that's it," Red cockily signaled at him, and then lunged at him playfully, reaching for the Poké Ball in Gary's grasp. "Give it back," he mouthed, "if you're gonna be like that!"

Easily holding Red back with his knee and free hand, Gary beamed as he held it just out of reach. "Never," he shot back. "Gave it to me, idiot."

Red gave a small hop, ignoring Gary, and his fingers managed to catch the ball in his hand… except his movement destabilized them both and they crashed to the ground in a heap. Grunting at how Gary had inadvertently kneed him in the stomach, Red failed to get up right away. Gary must have been laughing—hard—given the way his stomach convulsed, and he was weakly shoving at Red's shoulders. When he looked up at his friend, he saw the Poké Ball had rolled away and Gary was calling, "Get off me, stupid!"

Yet, suddenly, Gary's demeanor changed. He quit laughing and this time when he shoved Red, he pushed hard, enough to make Red yelp as he was haphazardly tossed to the side and landed unexpectedly on his elbow. Jumping up, Gary composed himself and dusted his clothes, and Red saw why after he finished picking himself up off the floor, too. Gary's sister had reappeared on the stairway and was giving them both a scrutinizing, almost concerned look. Red still couldn't catch what she said, but as he got back up, he saw Gary stammering, "We were just… joking around…"

Daisy shook her head and snapped something else.

In response, Gary just cringed, and nodded slowly. "Okay…"

With that, Daisy turned away, announcing something as she went. Red, starting to feel anxious at having no idea what was going on, turned to Gary and shakily signed at him, "What's wrong?"

"Thanks for the Poké Ball, but you should go," Gary replied with tense hand movements.

"What? Gary, what'd she say?" I just got here! I never get to hang out here!

"Why'd you have to go and do that?" Gary snapped at him abruptly. Red had to read his lips to catch it, too, because Gary had stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Do what?" Red asked, desperately waving his hands. "I don't understand…"

"You know!" Gary puffed, aggravated. "Put your hands on me! What's wrong with you?"

Stunned, Red just blinked. _I… don't know, I just thought we were kidding around…?_ He was utterly bewildered by Gary's sudden aggression… and hurt. Of course, he knew showing that right then was a dumb idea as Gary would likely just taunt him for it, but he just didn't understand. What could his sister have said to him? Pressing his lips to a thin line and swallowing hard, Red signed slowly, "I don't know… I'll go." Without waiting to see Gary's response, he turned on his heel and scurried out the front door, caught soon after leaving Gary's front yard by his mother.

She hugged him tightly and then, firmly gripping his shoulders, held him at arm's length to pointedly mouth, "Just what did you think you were doing sneaking off like that? Redmond, we've been over this!"

To that, Red's shoulders just sagged. He hated that full name. He wanted to be called Red, as many famous pokémon trainers went by nicknames to the general public, and he was going to be a trainer one day. Every time she spelled out his full name, it made him feel as if she didn't believe that… and on some degree, he knew she didn't. Beaten by that and by Gary's confusing reaction, Red just signed, "Sorry. I wanted to see Gary for something. I want to go home now, though."

She looked as if she had intended to launch into another reprimand, but at his last few words, she confusedly frowned. "You… want to go home?"

"Yes," he mouthed back lazily. "Please."

Her expression changed to something more sympathetic, and she hugged him again, loosening her hold. He leaned back into her hold. Even if it hurt for her to not believe in him at times, it was true that she was always there when nobody else was, and he was so, so grateful for that.

It would have been a lonely, lonely existence without her.

* * *

"Why'd you have to go and say that to me?" Gary demanded as he stormed up the stairs after his sister. "Daisy!"

"Well, don't wrestle guys on the floor and I won't have to!" she retorted from behind her closed bedroom door.

"I told you we were just joking around!" he snarled, frustratedly grabbing the doorknob to twist it. It refused to budge. "Open your stupid door!"

"No! Leave me alone, Gary." After a pause, she shot back, "And like I said before, boys don't joke around with each other by wrestling on top of each other on the floor! At least not laughing and giggling like you two were!"

Gary floundered for a second. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Gary, leave me alone!"

"No! You started it!" He hated it when she was this stubborn!

"Gary, I said to leave me alone!" she repeated, more harshly.

"And I said no," Gary taunted back. "You're not Mom, so—"

The door flew open and she stomped a foot. "Damn it, Gary! I know I'm not Mom!" she spat. "But she's not exactly here right now, is she? You'd better be glad it was me who caught that and not one of them!"

"Why's that? I don't know anything about them, so I have no idea," Gary bristled. His parents were still in his life; they came home every weekend or so. But he practically never spoke to them. They might as well have been strangers to him.

Daisy slammed her door shut after vanishing inside again. Gary groaned in frustration and kicked at the base of it. She could be so awful! "I hate you," he shot after her, even though he knew that silence would be her only answer.

Reaching into his pocket, Gary retrieved the hand-painted Poké Ball, and shuffled off toward his own bedroom. It was small and in sheer disarray—without anyone to tell him to clean it aside from Daisy, who he ignored regularly, he had no motivation to do anything to fix the clothes running over from his dresser into the floor nor the magazines and comic books tossed about the room—and he flopped down on his unmade bed, whose fitted sheet had started to come away from the mattress. He rolled the blue Poké Ball in his palm and then, dropping his arm to the bed, sighed loudly.

Daisy's initial warning on the stairs that 'boys didn't play like that' had brought back a whole slew of emotions from over the years of people constantly seeming to give him hardship for being friends with Red. He had been mocked relentlessly for learning sign language when he didn't need it, mocked relentlessly for hanging out with him at school whenever possible since Red was in a set of classes different from everyone else, and now, apparently just joking around was unacceptable. He felt bad for having lashed out at Red, but he was just so frustrated!

It didn't feel wrong to him to want to talk to or hang out or joke with his friend. It hurt and confused him so much as to why so many seemed intent on making him feel awful for it… At least he really did like the Poké Ball. His announcement that he found the color blue on the standard Great Ball had come after a discussion in which Red had said he wanted to be called 'Red' as a trainer (as opposed to his real name of Redmond). That had led Gary to say his favorite color was blue, and the conversation had snowballed from there.

Gary hadn't thought of a trainer name yet… but part of him really liked the thought of calling himself Blue in the same vein as Redmond's 'Red.' Yet, he grimaced.

_I just hope I don't get mocked for that, too…_


	14. What If I Never Get Over You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I recently found a few songs that really put me back in the Hil/Church camp and uh… this happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Just after the final chapter (not epilogue) of Black (for the first segment); 9-10 years after the end of Black 2 (for the last 2 segments)  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Mild angst, pining/unrequited love, fluff, mild language  
> Characters: Churchill (Church), Hilbert (Hil), Lacey (OC), N  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2, Hidden Grottos: Need You Now, Hidden Grottos: One of Plasma's Many Faces

Interviews had never been Church's favorite part of the acting industry. He loved performing for a shot and getting into character; interviews required him to forgo all characters he knew, and just be _himself._ At least, that was what he had been told by many other actors he had spoken with. Yet, Church wasn't sure if he could be himself. What was there interesting or good about himself to present to the rest of the world?

Those glum thoughts might not have been so prevalent if it hadn't been just a painful month since Hil's disappearance. This interview in particular was one of the first he had been invited for in front of a live audience. He had apparently captured a good deal of attention by being such a young actor to work in such high-profile films alongside Brycen Haru, the ex-gym leader of Icirrus City and former award-winning action-adventure actor. Yet, despite knowing that himself, it felt as if it hadn't registered for Church. It was everything he could have ever hoped for at his age and stage of his soon-to-be acting career, and yet… it felt so pointless.

Almost skittishly shuffling onto that set, Church had awkwardly taken a seat at the hostess's insistence, on a plush, azure couch situated in front of a team of cameramen. He knew the recording was semi-live—delayed just enough to allow the editing team to keep anything too risqué from making it to the public eye, but more or less instantaneously broadcast to the rest of Unova—and that made him even more uncomfortable. The hostess had piercing green eyes and long, pristine, straight red hair that framed her freckled face. She looked uncannily familiar, and Church thought in private amusement, that was because she looked so similar to him. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling she was looking through him or scanning him for weaknesses. Her grin was oddly hungry.

"Welcome to the show, Churchill Pines!" the woman exclaimed. A Lillipup jumped into her lap as she settled in on an adjacent, pale red couch, and she stroked its back lovingly. "It's such an honor to meet you, such a young, promising actor like yourself! But of course, with you being so new to the scene, everyone's wondering, 'Just who is this new guy?'"

Awkwardly laughing, Church glanced down at his fidgeting hands, attempting to still them. "Well, I'm… not that complicated," he lamely answered. _What kind of answer was that?_ he thought bitterly. "Well… unless you want to count that I go by Church instead of my full name."

She laughed. He had forgotten her name. That made him feel even worse. He couldn't wait for this horrible interview to be over and they had barely just started! "Well, my apologies, Church," she giggled, emphasizing his shortened name. "So, Church, from what I've heard, you come from Nimbasa City and took up acting classes in Nacrene before finally settling in Virbank. That true? How's Nimbasa compared to here?"

Licking clammy lips, he answered her question, telling her that Nimbasa seemed busier and more worldly, but Virbank had a much homelier feel about it, even though it was their center for films. He almost lost track of his train of thought halfway through, still staring at his now-sweating palms. This was awful. What was there to tell her, anyway? It was just so… boring. He was so boring… She asked a few more questions like that, getting a general sense of where he had come from and his inspirations for acting. He phoned in the responses, almost zoning out of their conversation, until she started with a sly voice that immediately made him anxious.

"Now… I don't mean to pry."

He glanced up. Her wolfish, delighted grin told him differently than her words.

"But I have heard some rumors that you had affections for a lucky fella before settling into Virbank!"

His heart sank like a stone and it took everything in his power not to wrench his gaze away from her. "Not true," was all he managed to say and he forced the fakest smile ever, "I've been too busy with acting, I didn't even have time to…"

She waved a hand at him. "Oh, don't be so worried! I can see you blushing!" she giggled. She still looked borderline wolfish. "Who was the lucky guy, what happened?"

Feeling like he might faint from just how uncomfortably cruel this line of questioning felt, Church swallowed against a sandpaper tongue and looked back at his fidgeting hands. His thoughts swirled painfully as he wondered what such a discussion would mean for his career. Sure, he had not heard of any actors in Unova catching heat for admitting to being gay or lesbian or anything of the sort, but he couldn't help the immediate worry about the judgment that could come his way, on top of the hurt swimming through his chest at the painful reminders of Hil.

He noticed the hostess frown, but it was a performative frown. As fake as his own smile. "Aw, did he break your heart, honey?"

Crossing his arms and feeling a surge of anger out of the blue, Church set his jaw and shot her a scathing glare. "He was the best guy I have ever met," he retorted icily, warning her against treading such dangerous questions. His eyes stung painfully as he said the next part though. "He did nothing wrong. Circumstances just… didn't allow for it. And if I may, this seems very unprofessional. I don't want to talk about that."

Blinking as if stunned, the hostess embarrassedly nodded. "R-right, my apologies, Mr. Pines."

* * *

Curled up on his and N's sofa at their League home, Hil sighed and let his head fall against the armrest of the couch. It was dark in that room, the only source of light coming from the TV in front of him, where he had decided to dip into the bonus features of the movie he and N had just watched. N had fallen asleep on top of him throughout the movie, so Hil had an arm wrapped around him and they were cuddled up close to one another. It was Church's first theatrical movie he had ever starred in and so, Hil had found himself a bit curious about the bonus features since they touted multiple interviews with Church and Brycen both.

Yet, watching that interview had left him feeling guilty. He idly stroked N's long, fluffy green hair, wishing he was awake so he could cuddle closer to him. Admittedly, he didn't feel guilty for having such strong feelings for N over Church. He and Church had hashed that out a long time ago. He grimaced as he recalled the terrible memory of panicking after getting a call over the Xtransceiver from a drunken Church, of having found a half-empty liquor bottle in his quarters at the Elite Four chambers, and of the fateful conversation they had had after. No, Hil didn't regret his love for N, which burned stronger than his previous flame for Church, but he did feel guilty for all the pain and hurt he had clearly put Church through over the years. At least he could rest assured knowing that Church had someone to love nowadays… He was incredibly close with a girl named Lacey, and they lived together.

Yet, even though he didn't regret loving N and he most certainly did love that wonderful green-haired boy curled up on top of him, snoozing away peacefully, Hil couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever truly be free of his tangled past with Church. Sometimes, it felt like he and Church worked more like the push and pull of the tides… For a while, everything would seem fine, and he and Church were simply just good friends. Yet, other times, they'd have awkward exchanges and Hil would recognize that nervous uncertainty in Church's eyes, the same look he used to reserve for the gray period after Hil and N were named Consuls in which Hil wasn't sure what or who he wanted. Church seemed happy with Lacey, but what if that didn't end up working out? Would Church go back to endlessly pining after Hil?

Gnawing his lower lip, Hil recognized that he and Church were in low tide right then—he was happy with N, and Church seemed happy with Lacey, but he couldn't help wondering when the tide might come back in, as it always seemed to do. It almost scared him to think how he and Church weren't over… would they ever be truly over?

Clinging a bit tighter to N, he jolted as the other stirred. "Sorry," Hil immediately apologized, "I didn't mean to wake you…"

N softly laughed, and scooted closer, resting his head atop Hil's shoulder and wrapping an arm around him snugly. "Don't mind," he yawned, and Hil sighed in contented relief, a wide, lazy smile laying claim to his face, chasing away all those silly, momentary thoughts about Church in an instant. N barely had to do or say anything at all to flood him with such pleasant, warm feelings of love. He had never felt that way with Church. Perhaps it was cruel to think of it that way… but it wasn't like he had to tell Church that, was it? _Of course_ he and Church were over. Gah, Hil could be such a bleeding heart, to let a practically ancient interview of Church's make him feel so guilty… He hugged N closer, earning a snicker from the other, and kissed him on the top of his head. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" N groggily asked, though he didn't dispute Hil's sweet advances.

"You are just too sweet curled up on top of me like that," Hil teased him playfully, kissing him again.

"Mm, I suppose that's something I can live with," N laughed, nuzzling Hil's shoulder.

Stroking his hair some more, Hil hummed happily. "I love you, N."

Lazily looking back up at him with a broad grin, N replied, "I love you too, Hil."

* * *

Church couldn't sleep that night. He almost scoffed to himself. His mother used to tell him (you know, back before she became a massive crackhead) that meant someone else was thinking about him. If that was the case, he really wished whoever it was would go the hell to bed, he thought amusedly to himself. Glancing over at the other side of the bed, he snickered to himself at how Lacey was sprawled unapologetically across the bed, her hair a mess. She could have slept through a tornado, he was sure, and she had no qualms with taking over his entire bed sometimes. He would have let her, of course, without so much as a peep. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he placed both of his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Further down the bed, a Poochyena was curled up annoyingly on top of his foot, but he didn't dare move it to try to make the pokémon find somewhere else to lay, lest he have a Poochyena attacking his foot from atop the blanket all night. Faith was funny like that.

As sleep continued to evade him and he eyed that ceiling, he had every reason in the world to be happy, especially with Lacey. Yet… he found his mind wandering a bit. He felt horrible for it, but he had to admit, he was feeling a bit exhausted. As much as he loved Lacey, sometimes… sometimes life with her was not perfect. Even all these years later, she still suffered fearful or angry outbursts, fueled by PTSD from her time with Neo Plasma, and sometimes… those episodes were just exhausting to deal with.

The previous day, she had melted down after mistakenly believing a voice she heard from a TV playing in another room was Ghetsis' Shadow Triad. She had curled into a ball against the kitchen floor, practically assumed the fetal position, and despite Church's attempts to talk her down, she had remained that way for quite some time. At one point, she kicked him for getting too close, squarely in the chest. He had toppled backward and hit the refrigerator on the other side of the room, hitting his head hard. That had snapped her out of it, and she had scrambled to her feet, rushing over to him, sobbing and apologizing profusely. He had told her it was okay, and he didn't hold it against her—truly, he didn't—but… the entire exchange had just left him feeling a bit tired.

Closing his eyes briefly, Church felt a deep pang of guilt as his mind wandered back to a time so, so many years ago, when Hil had woken up out of a dead sleep from beside him and told him he had had a sexy dream about him. Reminiscing on that wonderful night, Church sighed contentedly, then felt another rush of guilt for missing it so much. What did that make him if he missed that night? Yet, he quickly remembered all the heartache that had come with that whirlwind romance with Hil, and how they simply weren't right for one another.

He loved Lacey. He still didn't know when that had started, truly, but after years of helping her, he loved her so, so much. He weathered the storms of her meltdowns because he loved her. He wouldn't have changed her for _anything._

Starting to get upset, he dug his fingers into his hair. If that was the case, then why, on the rare occasion, did thoughts of Hil come creeping back? Like the push and pull of the tides, he and Hil never really went away, they just sometimes were swept out to sea, far apart, only for something to come flooding those thoughts back to mind. Time was supposed to make old feelings fade and allow him to get over Hil and he went for so long without thinking of Hil in such romantic ways that he truly believed he had gotten over that boy… Yet, nights like tonight always made him doubt himself. What if he _never_ truly got over Hil? What if he went another decade and still wasn't fully past him?

Guiltily, he clutched at his hair harder. He had told Hil he wouldn't wait for him, and that they would move on. It was supposed to have hurt at the start, but after ten years… wasn't it supposed to have gotten better? He felt like such a fraud, loving Lacey, but harboring feelings that were locked away behind walls and walls in his heart for Hil. Fraudulent was the only word he could think to describe it. So many believed him to be the angelic, saintly Churchill Pines, everyone's best friend and the best listener in the world, someone who could do almost no wrong—and yet none of them knew this side of him.

Starting to scare himself with such thoughts, he unraveled his fingers from his hair, and curled up close to Lacey. He wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled his head against her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath tiredly, his voice partially strangled. "I'm sorry I'm not who you deserve," he whispered.

He knew the next morning he would awake feeling ridiculous, telling himself that late-night demons had simply gotten the best of him… but it didn't make the painful thoughts that he was misleading Lacey or lying to himself any less bothersome right then. He just wanted to hug Lacey until they all went away—and so, he did. He eventually fell asleep curled up beside her like that, and just as he expected, the next morning, when she stirred, he felt much better. He hugged her tighter and kissed her, wishing her a good morning, telling her how beautiful she was. She did her usual giggle and denial of it, telling him he was a silly man, before getting up to go freshen up for the morning.

All those turbulent thoughts about Hil from the previous night were gone, forgotten in his happy stupor from waking up beside her, and in that moment, she was all that mattered.

The tide was low that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strongly inspired by "P.S. I Hope You're Happy" by the Chainsmokers ft. Blink-182 (the first segment) and "What If I Never Get Over You?" by Lady Antebellum (the last two segments).


	15. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hil's 9 years old, Vince helps him with a fateful valentine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: ~5 years before Black (the first 2 segments); ~7 years after Black 2 (the last segment)  
> Setting: Unova  
> Notes: Fluff, child/parent relationships, hurt/comfort, implied alcoholism, marital disputes  
> Characters: Hilbert (Hil), Vincent (Vince), Amber, Adrian (OC)  
> Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

Valentine's Day shouldn't have felt so awkward. After all, it had been so simple the last times he'd participated in it, right? Mom and Dad helped him scrawl words onto little notes, tuck a lollipop or something into a fold of the note, and hand it out during class, simple as that. Nothing personal attached to it, nothing strange about it. Sure, _some_ classmates made jokes—Hil's eyes rolled as he thought about the wild, eccentric Hilda—but for the most part, it was just a fun day. Free candy! What wasn't to love about _that?_

Yet, as Hil was there in the living room, a Ferrothorn peering curiously over the coffee table, he felt a little flushed and anxious. There was one classmate in particular he was dead-set on impressing with this usually inconsequential little note. He had yet to drum up the courage to try and make friends with the boy directly, so part of him hoped to make something of an impression with it, and perhaps he would talk to him. Adrian being his name, of course.

It was the weekend before the fateful day, and on that quiet Saturday midafternoon, Hil had his arsenal of supplies spread before him. A crayon box, a few pieces of paper, the pre-made notes—and within a few minutes, Dad came and flopped down on the couch behind him. He scratched the back of his head, making his feathery, light brown hair flail some, giving him an amusingly unkempt look. Hil was briefly distracted by it and laughed at him, to which Vince just beamed back mischievously.

"So, Valentine's Day. How's that comin' along?" Vince asked, raising a brow, and taking a sip of a can with a spongy holder surrounding it. He seemed to carry those around a lot. Teasingly, he further asked, "You've been working on that for a while today, haven't you?"

Excitedly climbing up onto the sofa beside him, Hil proudly displayed the ten or so other little notes he had finished, like someone spreading a hand of cards out, for his dad to see. "Yeah, I have! See?" The notes were a mix of green and pink, stylized with apples and Pidove, for whatever reason. Hil's little, handwritten words on each one was deceptively neat and proper despite being just nine. Unlike most boys his age, Hil seemed to pay particular attention to detail. Yet, Hil then frowned, and put the finished notes back on the table. Huffing, he loudly proclaimed, "But I don't know what to do about the next one!"

Laughing, Vince pressed, "And why's that? Purrloin got your tongue?" Eyeing the Ferrothorn across the table, he smirked. "Ferri giving you trouble? Stagefright?" Simpering at the pokémon still, he teased, "Ferri, it's rude to stare."

The Ferrothorn, if Hil didn't know better, rolled its eyes and waved a vine at Vince as if to say, "Whatever." Hil giggled and pushed on Vince's shoulder urgently. "Da- _ad!_ This is _serious!"_

"Oh, it is?" Vince took on a very serious expression and set his drink to the table, then leaned forward on his knees. Cocking his head at Hil, he said, "Now why's that?"

"'Cause this next one is for _Adrian,"_ Hil explained, as if that told him everything he needed to know. Obviously, that made it more important! Frowning at the notes on the table, he huffed. "He doesn't like Pidove, and he's allergic to apples."

"Oh," Vince seemed to stifle a laugh, "so what'd you want to do for him? This Adrian fella, I mean?"

"I don't know, that's the problem," Hil dramatically sighed, leaning against the back of the sofa and staring at the ceiling. "He really likes Druddigon! I think he just likes Dragon-types in general." Before he knew it, he was prattling off other stuff he knew about Adrian, telling Vince everything he knew about the blond boy with soft green eyes who played sports and seemed to know so much about pokémon already (unsurprising, as he was the son of an accomplished trainer). Blinking once he had realized his runaway mouth, Hil almost sheepishly smiled at his dad, "Hehe, sorry… Where was I? Right! The _valentine!_ So, yeah, I don't know what to do!"

Still leaned forward on his elbows, Vince had a soft, knowing smile on his face… Or maybe even proud? Hil didn't quite catch that, nor would he have understood it at the time if he had, but Vince certainly was looking on him with pride, as if wondering what he could have done to deserve such a caring, selfless child. "You know, I could help you make something a little more personalized to this guy than those little pre-made valentines," Vince suggested in the end, ruffling Hil's messy brown hair. Hil barely took notice and immediately grinned back up at him.

"Really?" he beamed.

"Sure," Vince laughed, standing up. "I've fought a few Druddigon in my time. Get a blank piece of paper and I'll help you draw one! That sounds better, doesn't it?"

"That's perfect!" Hil exclaimed. "He'll love that!" With that, he scooted closer to the table and dug a blank piece of paper out from below the pile of pre-made valentines. Knocking his box of crayons over in his fervor, he hissed in annoyance under his breath, then snatched it up, handing it eagerly to his dad. "Here!"

Getting into the floor beside him, Vince did his best with the low-quality crayons to draw a Druddigon holding a heart. A little-known fact about Vince was that he was actually a skilled artist, but he rarely did anything with that talent, aside from a few pleasure drawings here and there. Hil was used to seeing him draw with pencils and pens, sketching and sketching before inking a final, careful outline, but there was something fun about watching him throw color directly onto the page, no sketches or anything. The finished drawing was imperfect and cartoony, but that was fine—Hil quite liked it! It was _leagues_ better than the clipart Pidove and apples on the premade notes, anyway. Folding the page neatly so that it fit more with the shape and size of the other notes, Vince ended up pushing it at Hil. "Think that'll do?" he asked a little teasingly.

"Yes!" Hil said, immediately picking up his pencil to start scrawling onto the note. "This is perfect! Thank you!"

"Now, you gotta tell me how he reacts to it, kid," Vince snickered, ruffling his hair some more as he stood up. He stretched and grunted. "Sitting in the floor is bad for my back."

Finishing writing the note, Hil mischievously cut his eyes up at his dad. "You're getting o- _o_ -old," Hil taunted, tensing his muscles playfully in preparation for Vince's response.

"Old? Me?" Vince brought a hand against his chest like he was completely affronted, then looked down at his Ferrothorn. "Ferri! Are you going to just let me take that? He's insulting my honor over here!"

Hopping up and rounding the table, Hil poised himself behind the Ferrothorn, and pointed at Vince. "No, Ferri, he IS old!" As if to agree, the Ferrothorn waved a vine flippantly at Vince again, circling Hil's feet jokingly. Laughing, Hil pointed at Vince, "No, don't tangle _my_ feet up! Go Wrap him!"

Then, Hil squealed as Vince abruptly descended on him, snatching him up in one fluid motion. "If I'm so old, how do I pick you up so easy, huh?" Vince teased, dropping Hil again on the couch and wagging his eyebrows at him.

"You're still old!" Hil stubbornly clung to his earlier statement, kicking his feet playfully.

Waving him off, Vince shook his head, and snatched his drink from the table. "Psh. Anyway, is that all you were strugglin' with, with those valentines?"

"Yep!" Hil proudly announced, dropping down in front of the table to finish the rest. "Thanks, Dad!"

"No problem, son," Vince chuckled, taking a sip, and walking out the room to do something in the kitchen.

* * *

Coming home that day, Hil had felt utterly humiliated. He didn't understand why, either, and that only served to further frustrate him. Upon entering his home after being walked home by one of the trainers from Striaton, he had flopped down onto the couch of the living room and planted both hands over his face. Amber, in the kitchen, had worriedly called out, "Hil? What's wrong?"

"Today was bad!" he exclaimed, as if that was all that needed to be said.

"What do you—?"

Her question was cut short as the door flew open again, a boisterous Vince entering the household. He was on the Xtransceiver with someone, but Hil guessed he had the camera turned off, based on how he had the device pressed against his ear, his other hand holding a can with another one of those foamy grips on it. Laughing uproariously, Vince leaned against the front door after closing it. "No!" he almost barked, lips pulled into a wild grin. "No, no, Dennis, you can't be for real right now. She did?" He tried to take a step forward and seemed to somewhat stumble back, his words slurring slightly as he continued. "No way. Well, I guess Luka's a lucky Herdier tonight, huh?"

Amber immediately picked her way through the living room and got in front of him, tapping a foot.

"Oh, oh, Dennis, I gotta go," Vince immediately said. More laughter shortly followed. "Well, the missus is standing in front of me, and"—his voice dropped to a whisper—"I think she's ma- _a_ -ad."

Hil was giggling. Okay, so today had sucked, but his dad was just so silly sometimes!

"Are you done?" Amber quietly asked, in a tone so low Hil had to strain to hear it.

Vince lazily brought a finger of his lips and shushed her, that Cheshire grin still spread across his face. "Shh, I'm all done, love," he teased. Seeming to put more effort into standing properly, he stepped past her and waved excitedly at Hil. "Hey, kid! How was today?" He took another swig of the can in his hand, and Amber rolled her eyes and marched out of the room. Hil wasn't sure what her problem was.

Reminded of the day, Hil groaned, dramatically looking up at the ceiling again. "Adrian moved!"

Perking up in surprise, Vince asked, "Huh?"

"Adrian! You know, who you helped me make the valentine for? I had it all ready today and he's moved!" Crossing his arms to pout, Hil muttered, "Apparently he's off in Castelia, now."

Seeming to frown sympathetically, Vince carefully went around the table and sat down beside Hil, nudging him. "Hey, I'm sorry, kid," he said gently, "but still, that was really sweet, what you wanted to do, you know?"

"Yeah, just…" Hil groaned again. "I don't know why I'm so mad! He wasn't even there, it wasn't like I got made fun of for it, he just wasn't there." The disappointment was etched all over his face, and apparently, Vince was the only one in the room who picked up where exactly it was coming from. He looped an arm around Hil and gave him a reassuring pat.

"It'll be alright, there's more friends to be made out there," Vince insisted, smiling warmly. Then, grinning more playfully, "I'll help you draw special valentines for them, too." He winked and withdrew his hand with a snicker.

His laugh was infectious. Hil couldn't help but giggle along with him, feeling a little more at ease after his words. "Okay," he admitted, "okay, that works."

"Now, outside of that, I'm sure you have homework to do," Vince taunted him, sticking a tongue out when Hil gave him a dismayed whine. "Gotta finish it, or Mom'll getcha."

Laughing as he scooped up his backpack from just beside the couch on the floor, Hil cried, "Not that!" and started up the stairs.

Yet, before he was out of earshot, he heard Amber and Vince talking, and for some reason, he stopped to listen, hesitating at the middle of the stairs.

"You're drunk off your ass," Amber hissed. "You just got home from work! Why—"

"I am not," Vince retorted, annoyed. "I just was having fun with—"

"Dennis? Yeah, so I heard. You were practically falling all over the floor in front of Hil!"

"So, what if I was? You're in here yelling at me for being drunk, yet I can still talk to you." He scoffed. "That's gotta mean something for my brain's functioning right now. Anyway, I still talked to him, didn't I? Still was able to understand him. I bet you don't even know who 'Adrian' is. At least _I_ talk to him. More than you probably do about stuff that's bothering him," Vince icily replied. Hil could practically hear the dismissal in his voice. "Not talking about this right here, right now, Amber, Hil will hear. Gonna go talk to _Dennis_ some more. If Hil needs help with his homework or something, give me a holler, otherwise, leave me alone."

Gnawing his lower lip, Hil decided to just creep up the rest of the way of the stairs.

* * *

Those memories had all come rushing back as Hil had spotted the familiar face in the Pokémon Center just within the perimeter of the Pokémon League. Considering this was nearly fifteen years since then, he was naturally much different, but something about him was unmistakable. Adrian had wispy golden hair, short and close to his head, contrasting green eyes, and a rough, almost raggedy style of clothes, all of them stained with dirt and scuffs. In his gray backpack, a baseball bat and various other sports equipment stuck out of different pockets, and at his side, a Druddigon followed dutifully. Hil felt a little silly for staring, but he couldn't shake the wave of sorrowful nostalgia. Apparently, Adrian noticed his stare, for when he was done healing his pokémon, he gave Hil a nervous smile and dipped his head respectfully.

"Um, hello, Consul Hil," Adrian murmured, swallowing hard. Hil blinked fervently, and wrenched his gaze away.

"O-oh, hello," Hil replied, standing awkwardly at the Poké Mart counter. He had come with the intents of buying some more Hyper Potions for the Elite Four and Nathan to use, but had gotten distracted by the boy and his Druddigon some time ago. "Sorry. I did not mean to stare, but…" Sadly smiling to himself, Hil rapped his fingers against the counter in front of him. "That's a nice Druddigon," was what he ended up saying. Trying to make small talk, he asked, still without looking at him, "Where did you get it?"

"Oh, this guy?" Adrian laughed. "Well, funny story. I was supposed to get an Oshawott, but when I went back to the school in Striaton I was at to pick up some stuff I had forgotten, I found this little note in with my stuff… It was kinda beat up, because it seemed kinda old, but it had this pretty picture of a Druddigon on it. And it was addressed to me! I think it was supposed to be a valentine… Wished I could have known who it was from, but that part got ripped off at some point, I guess. I always thought Druddigon were cool, and I thought that little note was awesome, so I showed my dad, and he decided to give me a Druddigon he'd bred a long time ago." Adrian gave another soft, intoxicating little laugh. "It was like fate, or something."

Hil's knuckles went white as he clung to the counter, as if for support. He felt like a cartoon character whose jaw might have hit the floor. He had thrown that valentine on the floor in his frustration all those years ago! Like, right next to the trash can! There was no way! How had it ended up in with Adrian's old stuff he needed to come back and pick up, Arceus could have known how long later?

"Uh, you okay?" Adrian asked when an awkward silence started to stretch on.

Turning to look at him again at last, Hil waved dismissively. "Oh, I'm fine, haha!" He couldn't help the big grin on his face. It felt nice to see old friends again, no matter how old, and he had to admit, he didn't know how Adrian had gotten that note, but he was so glad he had. "That's an awesome story, though, man." Fleetingly, he thought about telling Adrian the note had come from him, but then… he wondered if he should just let that little memory be, enshrined in bittersweet nostalgia. At least he had the closure of knowing that Adrian had actually gotten it despite everything. "Maybe it was fate," Hil ended up saying, shrugging in a way that was all-too reminiscent of the way he had seen Vince do so much back then, "but it's a cool pokémon, anyways. You going to give Nathan a run for his money?"

Adrian chuckled, and nudged the Druddigon with his foot. Hil swore the pokémon smiled. "Me and Valentine are gonna give it our best!"

 _He named it Valentine…_ Hil couldn't stop smiling. _Thanks again, Dad, for helping me with that…_ "Haha, well, I'll be sure to come watch," Hil teased.

Adrian then cocked his head. "You know, it's crazy to think we grew up together… and everything you did…"

Surprised, Hil blinked. _Oh, he remembers! I thought he wouldn't have… We barely spoke._ "I-is it really?"

"Yeah!" Adrian laughed, putting his hands on his hips. "Like, we went from Hilda messing with you every chance she got and, er…" He seemed to falter, and Hil was sure he was thinking about Vince. "Well, all of that petty stuff, you know? To you being a leader of the country!" Sheepishly, Adrian looked down at his shoes. "You know, some people from back in Striaton, were wanting to do some sort of reunion thing, but didn't want to even bother trying to ask… Worried you were too busy, or something…"

Giving an easygoing smile, Hil waved a hand at him. "Don't be like that. I'd love that, actually…" Hil looked away. He could _not_ wipe that stupid smile off his face. "I'd love to arrange for something like that. Maybe you can give me their Xtransceiver numbers and I'll call them?"

Adrian lit up, beaming. "That'd be awesome! Thanks so much!" Leaning down to playfully grab his Druddigon's arm and wave it for her, he then joked, "Say, 'Thanks,' Valentine!"

Laughing and waving back, Hil dipped his head respectfully. "My pleasure, Valentine," he teased.

"Uh, I'll go write some of those down! Will you be here in about ten minutes?" Adrian asked, jumping back to his full height.

"Sure," Hil nodded. "I will."

"Great!" With that, Adrian scurried up the stairs of the Pokémon Center, likely to the hostel room he'd been staying at.

 _It's not often good memories of my dad crop up like that…_ Hil thought longingly, watching him go. _A friend that reminds me of that doesn't sound so bad._ Briefly looking up at nothing in particular, Hil sighed contentedly, still smiling. _Thank you, again, Dad. I know it seemed so small back then, but that little valentine meant so much to me… And you inspired someone else so much…_

_I wish you could have gotten to do that more. You were so good at it._


End file.
